


Drunk in Love (last thing I remember)

by MrsStylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, And Butt Stuff, Banter, Bottom Louis, Flirty boys, Fluff, Harry as the chef with a saviour complex, Jealous Harry, Jealous Zayn, Jealousy, Kissing, Kittens, Liam as Louis' big brother, Louis as the adorable drunk, Louis likes crop tops, M/M, Niall as the resident best friend, No Angst, Offspring AU, Pining, Smut, Sweet Harry, Zayn as the jealous ex, ain't nobody got time for that, and belly piercings, called Offspring, it's a fact, loosely based on an aussie TV show, obstetrican Louis, unless you consider pining angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-01-31 18:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18596551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsStylinson/pseuds/MrsStylinson
Summary: NOW WITH EPILOGUEHe’s stumbling to the left of the street, hopeful that it’s in the direction of his flat, when he sees it. A food truck. Lit up in gold. It's as if God has taken a giant highlighter and drawn a halo around it. Okay, so it might be the streetlight shining down on it and the yellow light emanating from within...but Louis will still claim godly intervention if anyone asks.He weaves across the pavement, shivering in what he now realises is a very brisk London evening, coated in fog.“Hello. Hi.” Louis steps in front of the entire line, waving an aimless hand at the man in the truck who looks completely bewildered by Louis’ antics. The man is littered in tattoos and wearing a green headscarf that matches the sea foam of his eyes. “Do you have any fried chicken? Or a drink? Oh, oh, do you have chips? Oh please tell me you have chips?”The man’s face, which Louis faintly registers is quite angular, shifts from bewilderment into a stunning, slightly crooked smile.--Or the one where Louis wakes up, naked, in a stranger's bed and has no idea how he got there. Maybe it's foul play. Maybe it's just the kindness of a handsome stranger amused by his drunken antics.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this one. I think it's pretty cute and fluffy. It's loosely based on a couple of episodes from an Australian TV show called Offspring.
> 
> Warning: very, very brief mention of Jay being sick and Robin’s passing.

One week out from The Biggest Break Up Since Charles and Diana, Louis is coping very well, if he doesn’t say so himself. Swaddled in a pale pink blanket, nursing a cup of perfectly bitter Yorkshire and texting Liam to remind him just how well he’s doing, he’s never been better.  
  
Liam had used other words...  
  
“Delusional. You’re delusional thinking you can go back to work on Monday, Lou.”  
  
Louis sniffed, poured the rest of Liam’s tea down his own throat and sunk his claws in.  
  
“Oh and just because you’re my boss, you think it’s okay to tell me whether I’m fit to work or not?”  
  
“Well, yes, actually,” Liam’s eyebrows furrowed, “but I’m actually telling you this because I’m your big brother and I’m worried you’re going to lose it the minute he walks in on Monday.”  
  
“Just because Zayn is, objectively, gorgeous—“  
  
“And subjectively,” Liam added, cheeks tinged in pink. “I mean...sorry.”  
  
“Excuse me. Is he my ex-boyfriend or your future one?” Louis pinched his side, delighting in Liam’s unmanly shriek of surprise. “You’re bloody blushing!”  
  
“I am not,” the human equivalent of fairy floss replied, elbowing Louis’ hands away. “If you’d stop acting like he killed somebody—“  
  
“He did kill somebody! My pet hamster, hellooo.”  
  
“—you’d realise that the two of you were never meant to be in the first place. I told you that from the beginning. I told you ‘Zayn’s a nomad. Stay away from him. Don’t let him get into your pants.” And what did you go and do? You let him repeatedly fuck you for two years straight. Also; the hamster was an accident and you two weren’t even dating then. Leave Pancake out of this.”  
  
“He’s just lucky he never touched Syrup,” Louis plucked the small ginger cat up from the hardwood floor and cuddled him in. “I would have gone Karate Kid on his ass.”  
  
“Look Lou,” Liam grabbed his shoulders, eyes shifting through various emotions until they eventually settled on anxiety. “You know I love you, right? That’s why I don’t want you coming into work Monday. Take the week. Go out with Niall on the weekend and get laid. Or not. I don’t care. Just stay away. I’ll tell Zayn you’re out with the flu.”  
  
“Like he’ll believe that.”  
  
“He doesn’t get to care how you are anymore. He might be gorgeous, he might be a good lad but he should have told you a long time ago that he didn’t want kids. Now, promise you won’t come in. I don’t want to have to call security on my little brother.”  
  
Louis crossed his arms, belligerent.  
  
“I hate the way you say ‘little.’” He scowled. “Your ‘little’ brother could kick your arse at football any day of the week.”  
  
“And I could lift your puny weight and carry you around a football field. Twice.” Liam smirked, “and that’s on a sick day.”  
  
Louis hated him, sometimes.  
  
So now he’s sitting here on a Friday afternoon, all cuddled up on his couch with Syrup in his lap and his phone lying in the crease of his elbow.   
  
Liam needs to know how fine he is so that he’ll change his mind and let Louis come into work Monday. He can handle Zayn, no matter what Liam thinks. The details of their break up might have been messy (hence the way he’s been referring to it ever since) but the break up itself was rather mundane. Zayn had packed up and then taken all of his stuff within thirty minutes of telling Louis how incompatible they were. After he left, Louis sobbed for twenty minutes and then smashed the old CD’s Zayn forgot to take. After Louis smashed them, he realised they were his own copies of the ones they both loved. It’s kind of been a running theme in his life; humiliation. But Liam is still wrong.  
  
It has been a testing time, just not because of Zayn. What’s tested him is his family’s innate ability to annoy him at all hours of the day, especially in the aftermath of a break up.  
  
“Oh hey Lou.” Dan’s rough voice had clogged up his answering machine more than once this past week. “I just wanted to see how you’re going. You know. With everything. You can talk to me, mate. I know you’ve got your brother. And you probably...you probably don’t want to talk about it with your dad ...but I’m here. Okay. Just call me. Okay?”  
  
No one could possibly sound more fraught with insecurity while offering help.  
  
Then there was a message from Liam just this morning.  
  
“Hey Lou. I, uh, don’t want you to go getting all in your head about this but Zayn has asked that you not be put on the same surgical rotation as him and the thing is, well, it kind of makes sense. I can’t have my best obstetrician glaring daggers at my best anaesthetist. I know you said you’re fine but I think you both need some time. Remember what I said. Let Niall take you out tonight. Alright, speak to you later bro. Love you.”  
  
“Ugh.” Louis had never pressed delete so fast. As soon as the red blinking light was gone, he felt fifty pounds lighter. “Fucking workplace politics.”  
  
Fucking Zayn and his stupid quiff. Expectant mothers were always swooning when he was around. He’d sweep in with his massively chiselled jaw and his big fancy needle and women in labour would blush and giggle like virginal schoolgirls. They’d fan themselves and go on and on about Zayn’s good looks. Then finally, after glancing back and forth between Zayn and Louis, they’d realise.  
  
“Oh my god, you two are sleeping together!” They’d say, eyes wide with zeal. “I love an office romance.”  
  
Funny how an office romance could be so much more intense when you were delivering babies. Not anymore, Louis had to remind himself, they wouldn’t be doing it together anymore. There’d be no more wide toothy smiles across the room as Louis handed a screaming baby over to his/her teary mother.  
  
He’ll probably miss that the most, he thinks, because more than half of their chemistry was borne of the tension in delivery rooms. Their eyes would meet across the belly of a vulnerable woman and for just a fraction of a second, electricity would crackle between them. They both admired each other’s skills so much, it was hard not to be attracted to each other in those moments.

 

Only after, when two valuable lives were no longer in their hands, would they snag an on-call room and tear each other’s scrubs off faster than either of them could ask; “should we?” More than the sex, Louis would miss having his intellect be such a turn on, rather than an obstacle in a relationship with someone who has a 9 to 5. Zayn understood it all, from the long hours to the emotional breakdowns behind closed doors to the junk food binges and crucial caffeine runs. Will he miss what they had? Sure. But a part of him will miss their compatibility even more. It’s a shame Zayn didn’t see it that way, really.  
  
The final straw today has been the call from Niall, his favourite midwife and resident best friend. That came halfway through today. Louis didn’t answer but Niall also took it upon himself to leave a message Louis could have done without.  
  
“Hey mate. Just wanted to give you an update on Z. Thought it might make you feel better to know he’s been doing really well. I thought you might be worried about how he’d cope but he seems pretty chipper. In fact, he invited me for drinks on Sunday! Anyway, Liam mentioned you might be up for something tonight? Let me know. Love you.”  
  
Louis just put his head in his hands and let out a muffled scream.  
  
Louis is just thinking about filling up his tea (and texting Liam to let him know he’s STILL fine), choosing a movie to watch (and telling his dad they can talk about it whenever) and settling down for the night (instead of calling Niall) when the buzzer sounds. Louis wanders over to the intercom, barefoot. He’s in just a grey threadbare t-shirt and white bike shorts, having slept in whatever clean clothing he could find last night. Zayn used to do the washing.  
  
“Who is it?” He sings into the receiver, plucking one of Niall’s cookies off the plate and shoving it into his mouth. “Whoever it is can go away. I’m busy eating cookies and feeling sorry for himself.”  
  
He does not expect the soft-spoken voice he knows oh so well.  
  
“Hello to you too Lou,” Zayn chuckles. “Bit early in the evening for that, isn’t it?”  
  
Louis facepalms. Life couldn’t get worse.  
  
“Buzz me up.”  
  
Louis hits the button and then sprints into his room where he thrusts his arms into the nicest leather jacket he owns. Then he lies on the bed while he wiggles his way into some skin-tight black jeans, moaning and swearing until they slide up and over his bum. No more cookies for him tonight. He’s pink faced and sweating by the time he’s done. He runs a trembling hand through his messy hair, resigned to the fact that he looks a mess.  
  
“Guess we’re going with the bed ridden look,” he huffs, slapping his thighs before standing up.  
  
A knock on the door sounds and Louis squeaks. He rises, closes his bedroom door behind him, and makes his way to the front one. He only has it halfway open before Zayn barges in, smelling absolutely incredible and looking good enough to eat.  
  
“Who’s here with you?” He wheels around, piercing Louis with his sharp, hazel eyes. “I’ve been gone one week and you’re already shacked up with someone else.”  
  
He’s turning and pacing the flat now, shooting Louis sharp looks every time he turns to pace a new line into Louis’ ruby carpet.  
  
“What do you mean, who’s here?” Louis couldn’t be more confused.  
  
“Look at you,” Zayn waves his hand at Louis’ ruffled hair and rumpled outfit. “You’ve obviously just had sex. I can smell it on you.”  
  
Ah, the smell of unwashed clothes. In fact, this is probably what he was wearing the last time the two of them had sex.  
  
“Plus, I heard you moaning in there. Let me see. Who is it?!”  
  
Zayn goes to barge straight into the bedroom they used to share but Louis leaps at him from across the room, tackling him into the ground.  
  
“What the fuck?” Zayn shakes him off like Louis is Tinkerbell and he’s a rugby player. “Get off me. You can’t protect him from me. Who does he think he is, taking advantage of you like this? Is it Niall? I’m going to kill that little shit.”  
  
“Oh my god, stop!” Louis shouts, shoving him into the ground. “It’s not fucking Niall! Where on earth would you get that idea from?”  
  
“He was always telling me you have a great arse. And he’s obsessed with you. He always has been.”  
  
“Fuck’s sake.” Louis laughs, pushing up off Zayn and into a standing position. “We’re best mates. That’s it. Niall might be a little more gay than most straight boys but he isn’t fucking me. Not that you have any right to know. If Liam knew you were here, he’d kill you.”  
  
Zayn quirks an eyebrow.  
  
“Is that why he sent me over here to check on you?”  
  
Dammit.  
  
“He did what?!”  
  
Zayn smirks, dusting off his perfectly tailored trousers.  
  
“He said you might be struggling to come to terms with what happened and that it might be good for us to talk.”  
  
“I’m not struggling to come to terms with anything,” Louis screeches. “He had no right. And neither do you. Get the fuck out.”  
  
“Lou—“  
  
He tries to reach in and grab Louis by the bicep but Louis dances out of reach.  
  
“No.” He holds his arms out in a defensive position, warding off any further affection. “I don’t need your pity, Malik. We’re done. It’s fine. Now get out of my flat and give me a chance to move on.”  
  
Zayn looks at him for a long moment, his mouth turned down at the corners, then shoves his hands into his pockets and turns to leave.  
  
“I hope you and your new boyfriend will be very happy together.”  
  
Louis gives him the finger behind his back but follows him to the door. As soon as Zayn is on the outside of it, he smiles sweetly.  
  
“Oh we will be.” He smirks. “He’s got a giant cock.”  
He winks then slams the door closed in Zayn’s appalled face.  
  
Niceties, be damned.  
  
Louis drills Niall’s number into his phone. That beautiful little leprechaun picks up on the first ring.  
  
“Lou!”  
  
“Niall, babe, I’m going to need a lot of alcohol and some bad pop. I need to put on some slutty clothes and go and get shit faced. Are you on board?”  
  
“I’m on board.”  
  
“I’ll see you at eight.”  
  
And that’s that. Now Louis just has to wash said slutty clothes.  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
His hands are in the air and there’s more sweat coating the insides of his arms than he’d like, but Louis is living for this song.  
  
“Bless your heart, Ni.” He wraps his arms around Niall’s neck who stumbles into the embrace, mouthing off about drunken OB’s. “This was just what I needed. Thank god I’m not on call.”  
  
“Um, you suggested it but sure. Happy to help, buddy.” Niall ruffles his hair.  
  
Louis elbows him off, taking the next five minutes to fuss with his hair until it’s just right. He’d perfected his look tonight under the watchful eye of Syrup, who always seemed to meow at precisely the right moments.  
  
“I like this.” Louis had stood in front of him with hands on hips, showing off a white sweater with short sleeves and a cropped hemline. He paired it with his tightest black skinnies. “Suitably slutty, don’t you think?”  
  
Syrup mewled and jumped off the top of the couch, making a beeline for Louis’ legs. He wound in between them, rubbing his soft head up against Louis’ denim clad shins.  
  
“Thanks Syrup. I think you’re gorgeous too.”  
  
The music in the club turns blurry inside Louis’ ears, as if someone is smudging each and every word. He realises he must be pretty drunk when he looks over to the corner of the club where the rest of his colleagues are gathered. Nick and Greg are laughing into each other’s shoulders, hooting at Louis, as if he were pulling off his terrible dance moves purely for their entertainment.  
  
Louis shuts his eyes. When he opens them again, he’s stumbling down the streets of London, the remnants of his last drink sticking to his teeth.  
  
“Bleugh,” he winces, throwing an arm into the air and just about knocking out a young couple who both shoot him angry looks. “I should really stop drinking such sweet drinks.”  
  
He’s stumbling to the left of the street, hopeful that it’s in the direction of his flat, when he sees it. A food truck. Lit up in gold. It’s as if God has taken a giant highlighter and drawn a halo around it. Okay, so it might be the streetlight shining down on it and the yellow light emanating from within...but Louis will still claim godly intervention if anyone asks.  
  
He weaves across the pavement, shivering in what he now realises is a very brisk London evening, coated in fog.  
  
“Hello. Hi.” Louis steps in front of the entire line, waving an aimless hand at the man in the truck who looks completely bewildered by Louis’ antics. The man is littered in tattoos and wearing a green headscarf that matches the sea foam of his eyes. “Do you have any fried chicken? Or a drink? Oh, oh, do you have chips? Oh please tell me you have chips?”  
  
The man’s face, which Louis faintly registers is quite angular, shifts from bewilderment into a stunning, slightly crooked smile. There are deep dimples pressed into his cheeks and the buttery glow of streetlight is nothing compared to the Great Gatsby-like green of those eyes. What a beautiful human, Louis thinks. He would very much like to run his lips over the thin traces of stubble on that wide set jaw.  
  
“Um, I have soup?” The man’s lips are trembling with amusement. He holds up a plastic bowl of what looks like chicken soup. “But uh, if you wouldn’t mind waiting...”  
  
He trails off, eyes drifting to the people behind Louis who have kindly said nothing this whole time, probably too dumbstruck by the hottie in the black apron whose tattooed biceps are protruding out the sides.  
  
Louis finally chances a glance behind him and staggers back, humiliated. The people behind him all have dirty faces and ragged clothing. Their cheeks are sunken and their eyes are dim. They’re fucking homeless. Louis has drunkenly stumbled upon a soup kitchen and demanded to be served first.  
  
“Shit.” He wheels back around and finds the beautiful soup maker smirking openly. “I’ll just um—“ he points a thumb in the direction he came from. “Go.”  
  
The beautiful stranger chuckles and holds out his hands to stop him.  
  
“No wait. Please. Don’t go. I’m about to close, okay? Just take a seat.”  
  
He points to a bench located conveniently beside his truck. Blushing wildly, Louis sits and waves a hand at the rest of the patrons.  
  
“Apologies,” he calls out, “please continue.”  
  
The beautiful stranger is laughing openly now. In between every bowl of soup, his eyes find Louis. He’s probably making sure Louis hasn’t wandered into oncoming traffic. He’s not that drunk, is he? He’s just fucking hungry and wants to lick chocolate sauce out of those dimples. Said dimples stay locked in place every time he looks at Louis. Each and every time, he winks as if there’s some kind of understanding between them. Shit. Maybe Louis is about to get defiled. Life is looking up.  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Louis wakes up. Naked. In a stranger’s bed. The sheets are charcoal grey, the walls are strangely blank and there is no burly chest to cuddle into. There are no clues as to where he is. He could have been taken captive, for all he knows. What the hell happened last night?  
  
The last thing he remembers is spilling his cocktail all over a security guard who hastily escorted him outside, practically shoving him onto the pavement. Everything after that is a bit misty.  
  
Did he sleep with the stranger who’s bed he is currently occupying and how did he meet him, if not in the club? And where the fuck are his clothes?! Jesus Christ.  
  
He staggers out of the bed, pressing a hand to his head in hopes of subduing the thumping headache that’s taken up residence in his frontal lobe. He wheels around on the spot, looking for his clothes. They’re nowhere to be seen. He rips the sheet from the bed and drapes it around himself, waddling out into the open plan flat where he expects to find his suitor. There’s nothing but the ominous ticking of an expensive looking grandfather clock and the smell of fresh cinnamon.  
  
The kitchen is huge and crystal clean. There’s a number of pots and pans hanging from a large metal shelf above the sink and a whole bench dedicated to a huge assortment of fruits and vegetables. Louis spends an embarrassing amount of time opening up cupboards and drawers, trying to find clues. He’s appalled at the amount of quinoa and kale he finds lying around, as well as a bunch of cookbooks dedicated to low carb cooking.  
  
The living room is much more suitable. There’s an indigo couch, a large flat screen TV and a fluffy black rug. Perched on the rug is a white fluffy kitten with a pink jewel collar who stares up at him with gorgeous blue eyes.  
  
“Hello darling,” he kneels down onto the rug to pat her, lips pressed into a smile. “I’m not your new daddy, unfortunately, but I hope you can tell me who your daddy is.”  
  
The kitten mewls and then rolls over onto her back, seeking tummy rubs. Louis obliges.  
  
“You and Syrup would make great friends.”  
  
Louis stands and turns to survey his surroundings one last time, hoping his suitor (or captor) might finally reveal himself. There are no signs of life. The artistic prints on the walls and high def photos of Big Cats seem to mock his lack of knowledge about the night before.  
  
Finally, he spots a clue. It’s a note, lying on the kitchen table next to a glass of water, a delicious looking blueberry muffin and some ibuprofen.   
  
_Come downstairs when you’re ready_. _I’ll explain everything_.   
  
It sounds a bit ominous but Louis is grateful enough for the ibuprofen and the muffin not to judge too harshly. He places the tablet on the centre of his tongue and then drains the entire glass of water, surprised at how parched he is. Did he not drink a single drop of water last night? Jesus.   
  
Then he tears a hunk off the muffin and stuffs it inside his mouth. Crumbs go flying from his mouth. He moans and stuffs another hunk in. Definitely a chef, judging by how good this muffin is. Casual sex with an accomplished baker? Louis’ done well.  
  
He’s not usually the type to have casual sex. It’s embarrassing, really. The few times he has let someone take him home, he’s ended up dating them, pretty seriously too. If he has slept with this stranger, at least the guy knows his way around the kitchen. That’s something Louis is looking for in a man. Conveniently, it’s also the one quality Zayn lacked.  
  
Louis reads the note again and notices that there’s an initial written in cursive at the bottom.  
  
_Come downstairs when you’re ready. I’ll explain everything.  
H .xx_  
  
Who on earth is H? Herbert? Harrison? Hunter? Louis has no clue. He probably should. Why did Niall let him drink so much and why didn’t he keep a better eye on him?  
  
Louis takes the winding staircase down to the ground floor, feeling a bit worse for wear. His head is pounding and all he wants is to tuck into a huge plate of greasy food. He’s not looking as his feet meet the floor, a hand still pressed to his aching head. The other is secured tightly in the top of the sheet.   
  
Maybe his preoccupation with trying to remember the night before could be blamed for him not noticing the hum of conversation that completely disappears in his presence. It can’t be blamed, however, for him missing the noisy squeal of a commercial coffee machine. The squealing cuts off into silence the moment he looks up and finds himself in an urban cafe.  
  
Shit.  
  
Shit.  
  
Shit.  
  
“Good morning.” There’s a beautiful man smirking at him from behind the coffee machine, with dark curls cascading around his chiselled cheeks. He wears his dimpled smile well. “Perhaps you might want to get dressed first?”  
  
Louis groans and runs straight back up the stairs, his sheet slipping to a dangerous point and revealing half his bum to a family seated just beside the staircase. The children laugh as Louis races back up the stairs and into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Christ almight _y._ He fucked a handsome chef...and now he’s just made a fool of himself in front of him.  
  
Louis trawls through the giant walk in wardrobe in front of him, amazed by the sheer number of animal print shirts and floral trousers. Who is this fashion-forward, culinarily blessed man and what is he doing leaving muffins and ibuprofen for his drunken hook up? Louis eventually settles on a pair of skinnies that are two inches too long and a white shirt that is obviously usually filled out by someone much burlier than him. Louis isn’t bothered. Nothing could be worse than waltzing into a bustling cafe with only a sheet around him and no memories of who this mysterious ‘H’ is.  
  
Ten minutes later, Louis is seated at a table with H. It turns out to be the man with the curls who won’t stop smirking at him like they’ve just exchanged dirty secrets. Presumably, he’s caught every single one of Louis’ nervous eye twitches. H had guided him over to a table in the corner and then signalled a waiter who brought over a huge plate of fried food. There’s creamy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, smoky sausages, grilled tomatoes and what looks like fried kale. The plate would have been perfect without the kale but beggars can’t be choosers. There’s a steaming cup of coffee to go with it and while Yorkshire would usually do the trick, today, a heavy hit of caffeine is much appreciated.  
  
“Do you remember me at all?” H grins, plucking a piece of bacon off of Louis’ plate and sucking it into his mouth.  
  
It’s obscene thievery at its worst and Louis is totally aroused by it.  
  
“Um, I seem to be experiencing some difficulties in the memory department...”  
  
“You were very drunk last night,” H chuckles and then offers a clean hand. “I’m Harry.”  
  
Louis takes it, shaking the hand of the man who probably fucked him last night.  
  
“Louis.”  
  
“I know.” Harry’s eyes are dancing. “You told me several times. You seemed concerned that I might confuse it with Lewis.”  
  
“Oh dear.”  
  
“Apparently, you used to like it better that way when you were young but when you grew up, you ‘abruptly discovered taste.’”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Louis groans, grabbing Harry’s hand and squeezing it. “I was so drunk.”  
  
Harry’s eyes slowly shift to their joined hands and he squeezes back, dimpling harder.  
  
“Oh I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”  
  
He then proceeds to explain that Louis managed to butt in front of twenty homeless people at a soup truck, demanding chips and making a general nuisance of himself. Those were Louis’ words, not Harry’s.  
“And you made me a muffin?” Louis gestures to the impeccable plate of food before him, decadent enough to win thousands of hearts on Instagram. “And all of this? You must be an angel.”  
  
Harry chuckles at that and looks down at the table, soft eyelashes making friends with the apples of his cheeks.  
  
“Something like that, yeah. I kind of have a thing for helping the little guy.”  
  
Louis narrows his eyes.  
  
“I sincerely hope ‘little guy’ is a metaphor.”  
  
“It is.” Harry flashes his teeth. “Even though my clothes are wearing you, not the other way round.”  
  
Louis opens his mouth to protest but Harry presses a thumb to the open seam of his lips.  
  
“You look lovely in them, mind you.”  
  
Louis exhales all of his heated arguments against the soft pad of Harry’s finger.  
  
“T-thank you.” He blushes. “So I kind of remember the soup truck but ah, what happened after that?”  
  
“Well,” Harry stirs Louis’ coffee for him, his mouth swooping up at one side, “I took you back to your place, hoping to deposit you safely inside...”  
  
Shit. Louis remembers. Harry had driven him right up to the door. Louis had jumped out, not a care in the world, waving drunkenly at the handsome stranger who deigned to look after him for longer than Louis deserved.  
  
“Will you be alright?” Harry had leaned across the truck to ask. His white shirt pressed tight against his rib cage, outlining his abdominals.  
  
“I’ll be fine.” Louis waved him away and turned to rifle through his pockets. He found two receipts, a condom and some disgustingly melted chocolate but no keys. Fuck.  
  
When he turned around, Harry was still there, watching him with a furrowed brow. Louis hoped his caramel fringe was still in place and that his arse looked as good as he thought it did in his jeans. He’d already embarrassed himself twice in front of this beautiful boy. He couldn’t bear to do it again.  
  
“Are you sure you’re okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. You go. I’ll be fine.”  
  
Harry started to roll away and Louis beat a hasty retreat to the pot plant on the right side of his door. He knelt down, hoping to become one with the plant. He would just hide there until Harry left and then deal with his situation however he could. But Harry’s engine suddenly stopped.  
  
“You don’t have your keys, do you?” He called out, eyes glittering in the dark.  
  
“Um, no.”  
  
“Jump in,” he tilted his head at the passenger seat.  
  
He wasn’t exactly spoiled for choice. It was either jumping in a food truck owned by a seemingly good Samaritan or sleeping outside his flat until Zayn picked up his phone. His ex was the only one with a spare key, unfortunately.  
  
Louis jumped in.  
  
Louis is brought back to the present by the toot of a horn outside the café window.

 “So uh, how did that—” Louis pauses, distracted by Harry’s features. The early morning light illuminates half his sculpted face and reveals some deep blue shadows beneath his eyes. “—become this?”  
  
He gestures to Harry’s clothes which he can silently admit he is, in fact, drowning in.  
  
“Oh we didn’t sleep with each other, if that’s what you mean.” Harry laughs.  
  
“We didn’t?” Louis sighs. “Oh thank god!”  
  
Harry’s bottom lip drops and he steals another piece of Loui’s bacon, shoving it into his mouth.  
  
“I mean, shit.” Louis winces. “I didn’t mean that. It would have been...amazing. Trust me. It’s just...I don’t usually do this.”  
  
“Oh I know.” Harry flashes another cheeky grin. “You mentioned. Several times.”  
  
Another flashback hits Louis’ consciousness. He remembers Harry telling him it was okay to crash in his room. Louis had waved an entitled finger.  
  
“Well, hang on a second. You’re very gorgeous, Harold—“  
  
“It’s Harry.”  
  
“And ordinarily, I would be very happy to be bedded by you.”  
  
“Is that right?” Harry crossed his arms, smirking openly. It did nothing for Louis’ self-control which was hanging by a single thread. Harry’s biceps looked twice as large with his arms folded like that.  
  
“But. I think I might be too drunk to enjoy it.”  
  
Harry threw his head back and laughed throatily. He guided Louis into his bedroom by the shoulders.  
  
“I’m going to sleep on the couch, silly. You’re too drunk to consent,” Harry said, “let alone enjoy.”  
  
“But you would?” Louis turned around and put his hands on his exposed hips, fluttering his eyelashes. “Sleep with me?”  
  
Harry spun him around again and forced him to sit on the bed, which was soft and large enough for the two of them to engage in some serious cuddling in when Louis woke up.  
  
“I think that’s a conversation for when you’re sober.”  
  
“Can I just....” his eyes suddenly filled with tears and he grabbed Harry’s hand, squeezing his fingers so tight that Harry winced. “Can I just tell you that this is the best I’ve felt in a long time? My mum’s sick, see, and my sisters are having problems with my dad and I’ve just had the worst break up and—and—“  
  
Louis hung his head, lurched forward, then vomited all over himself.  
  
“Get undressed, hop into bed and I’ll come get your clothes.” Harry told him.  
  
“You’re not going to...” Louis swallowed, thinking of how shitty Zayn got every time Louis went out and got drunk. “Yell at me?”  
  
Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. His hand hovered in the air for a moment before he gently pushed Louis’ sweaty fringe away from his forehead.  
  
“No, love. Of course not.”  
  
He was a damn angel.  
  
Louis is shocked back into the present by Harry handing him a cloth bag.  
  
“I’ve washed these. They may need a dry clean though.”  
  
Louis winces.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
He takes the bag then gestures at the plate he has pretty much licked clean.  
  
“This was incredible, thank you. And thank you for, you know, everything.”  
  
Harry looks so smug sitting there in a tiny white singlet and ripped black jeans with a silver necklace swinging from side to side between his muscled pecs.  
  
“You’re very welcome. Thank you for an entertaining night, Lou.” Harry tucks a strand of Louis’ hair behind his ear, his hand lingering. “You can scare my patrons like that any time.”  
  
Louis laughs nervously then stands, holding his bag between the two of them.  
  
“I’ll return your clothes,” he gestures at his ensemble, “but I wouldn’t say no to a muffin to take on the road.”  
  
Harry’s positively beaming as he fetches him one from the bell-shaped cloche atop the counter.  
  
“You liked it then?” He says as he tucks Louis’ fingers around it. “I added coconut for a hint of sweetness.”  
  
“Best thing I’ve ever tasted.”  
  
Harry plants a soft, wet kiss on his cheek and guides him to the door, a hand pressed to his lower back. Louis can feel himself blushing to his roots.  
  
“Come back soon.” Harry says.  
  
“I just might,” He winks at Harry then strides out the door, swinging his hips the whole way down the street.  
  
He doesn’t realise he can’t find his phone until he’s halfway to the hospital.  
  
 *-*-*-*  
  
“You forgot your—“  
  
Louis’ curves have already disappeared from sight by the time Harry makes it outside with his phone in hand.  
  
“---Phone. Shit,” he says and slaps his thigh.  
  
He just spent the last twelve hours rescuing a cute boy from himself and now he’s fucked it all up. Except, he looks down at the phone, except that now he knows Louis will have to see him again. Okay, so maybe this isn’t so bad after all.  
  
*-*-*-*  
  
Zayn stalks up to the nurse desk, grumbling the whole way there. Niall, Nick and Greg are giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls and none of them seem the least bit concerned about Louis.  
  
“Have any of you seen Louis? He’s not answering his phone. He’s not at home and he’s not at his mother’s.”  
  
“He got kicked out last night,” Niall laughs. “But he sent me a text around two letting me know he was safe and not to worry.”  
  
“That still doesn’t explain where he is,” Zayn hisses.  
  
Nick crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.  
  
“Have you ever thought he’s not answering the phone because....”  
  
“What, because it’s me?” Zayn snaps.  
  
“Well, yeah.”  
  
Zayn picks up the hospital phone, glaring at the three of them as he dials Louis’ number.  
  
*-*-*-*  
  
Harry’s upstairs changing his sheets when Louis’ phone rings.  
  
“Louis’ phone.” He picks it up, hoping it’ll be Mr Hungover himself.  
  
“Who the hell are you?” A voice grumbles. “Where’s Lou?”  
  
“Oh, I’m Harry.” he chirps.  
  
“Harry?”  
  
“Yeah, I’m a friend of Lou’s...I guess.”  
  
“I’ve never heard of you,” Zayn says.  
  
“Look, I’m not really a friend of his. He stayed the night last night and he left his phone here.”  
  
“So where the hell is he?”  
  
“That’s what I’m saying, I don’t know,” Harry says, starting to get agitated. “If you find him, I’d love to give him his phone back.”  
  
“Oh, I bet you would,” comes the petulant voice.  
  
Harry doesn’t think twice about hitting disconnect. He looks at Cupcake who mewls and rolls over onto her back.  
  
“Well he was a dickhead. Wonder how he knows our Louis.”   
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Louis darts through the corridors like a government level spy, hiding from an assassin. He can’t be seen by Niall and the rest of the crew. If they figure out he had a one night stand (or whatever it was), they’ll never leave him alone.   
  
He has to get in and change his clothes. Then he has to ask Zayn for the spare key without giving away what happened. Great.  
  
He makes it into the locker room where he changes into some joggers and a comfy hoodie. Zayn barges into the room, holding a file in his hand. He’s definitely meant to be off treating a patient right now.  
  
“Where were you? I was trying to call you.”  
  
“Oh sorry,” he avoids direct eye contact. “I can’t find my phone.”  
  
“Really? And how come you’re here? You don’t start back till Monday.”  
  
Zayn’s head is cocked like a cheetah that’s just picked up on a nearby deer.  
  
“Um, I just wanted to grab a change of clothes and see if I could grab your key to the flat.”  
  
“So you lost your key?” Zayn crosses his arms, eyebrows raised. “And your clothes? Sounds like a big night.”  
  
“Oh n-no, I just um...you know.”  
  
“No, I don’t know.” He slips the key off his key chain and hands it over. “How is Harry, by the way? He seems nice.”  
  
Louis flinches. He thinks about telling Zayn nothing happened. He thinks about telling him they had wild, dirty sex all night.  
  
“Yes, he does seem nice,” he settles on and saunters out of the locker room, head held high.  
  
Of course, when he pushes through the doors, about to sneak past the nurses station, he’s confronted by none other than Harry, waving his hand at him like they’re old mates.  
  
“Oh there he is!” He says to the three traitors who are smirking at Louis, their heads darting between the two of them like this is a high intensity tennis match. “You left your phone at my cafe.”  
  
“Oh you didn’t have to come all this way.”  
  
Louis turns and starts striding down the hall, looking for a place where they can talk in private. He spies an empty on-call room and snags Harry by the shirt, dragging him in behind him. Harry stumbles but rights himself by latching onto Louis’ biceps.  
  
“Look at these guns,” Harry grins and squeezes him gently, his smile a little more lecherous than before. “You work out, hey?”  
  
“Says the Michelin man,” Louis gestures at the thick bands of muscles standing out in lines across his chest. “You’re ridiculously built and you know it.”  
  
“Maybe.” Harry inclines his head. “Anyway, here you go.”  
  
He hands over Louis’ phone but Louis can just tell by the hooks in his dimples, he’s about to be embarrassed all over again. It’s a shame because Harry’s cologne is giving him some serious feelings and right now wouldn’t be the worst time to take advantage.  
  
“You had a few calls. I wouldn’t have picked up. It’s just that it kept going off and I thought it might be important.”  
  
“Okay...”  
  
“Your brother called. He wanted you to know he doesn’t believe you’re fine and he’s taking you out for dinner on Wednesday, whether you want to go or not. Oh, and he wanted to remind you about his gig tonight.”  
  
“Oh jesus,” Louis crushes his hands to his face.  
  
Harry laughs and pulls them away, encircling his wrists and holding onto them as he continues the onslaught.  
  
“Your mum called. She wanted me to tell you that she doesn’t think it’s acceptable for you to leave your lacy underwear in the guest bedroom where Dan can find it.”  
  
“Double jesus.” Louis squeezes Harry’s hands. “I’m so fucking sorry.”  
  
Harry squeezes back.  
  
“And every one of your sister’s called. Twice. They all need advice. They also seemed really interested in what happened between us. Lottie wanted to know whether you’d asked me out yet.”  
  
“Is it too late to go back and make sure I never stayed at your place?” Louis is so damn sorry. “You must be truly horrified by the state of my life.”  
  
“Actually,” Harry says, sliding his hands up Louis’ arms to his shoulders. “I’m rather taken with you and the state of your life.”  
  
Louis’ breath escapes him in a disgusting snort.  
  
“You couldn’t possibly be.”  
  
“I am.”  
  
Louis’ teeth poke through his lips.

“You have terrible taste.”  
  
Harry laughs.  
  
“Perhaps.”  
  
Louis invites him to Liam’s gig. It might be a bad idea. It might end in more embarrassment but he kind of likes the idea of running the gauntlet, especially with someone as hot as Harry.  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
“So are you going to buy me a drink or what?”  
  
Louis jumps about a mile.  
  
“Jesus,” he fans a hand over his chest. “Please don’t do that again.”  
  
“Oh my god, you’re shaking!” Harry wraps his arms around him and hugs him close. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay.” Louis digs his chin into Harry’s shoulder, appreciating how tight his hug is. “But maybe you can get me a drink to make up for it?”  
  
Harry grins.  
  
“Sure. What’re you drinking?”  
  
Louis holds up his drink and takes a sharp pull from the straw, enjoying the dilation of Harry’s pupils.  
  
“Mojito.”  
  
“One mojito, coming right up.” He squeezes Louis’ hip on his way past and Louis is dying inside. He’s so damn sexy.  
  
“Who is that?” Liam whispers in his ear.  
  
“Would people stop doing that?” Louis wheels around to face him. “And that’s Harry, if you must know. He’s my saviour.”  
  
“You mean the one who picked your drunk arse up off the sidewalk and carried you home?”  
  
“He did not carry me—“ Then Louis’ eyes glaze over. “Wait, you spoke to him. Did he say that?”  
  
“I did,” Harry slides in next to him, holding two mojitos. He hands one to Louis and takes a sip from the other. “I didn’t carry you home but I did carry you to the truck after you finished your soup. You were slumped over on the ground and I didn’t want to wake you.”  
  
Louis presses a hand to Harry’s bicep.  
  
“Harry, let’s get married.”  
  
The other man guffaws, a large hand covering his pink puffy lips. He’s got miles of sparkly jewellery littering his fingers and he looks positively edible in red leather pants and a black open collared shirt. Louis feels underdressed in a tight hemmed in blazer and black skinnies. However, his hair is swooped over to one side and he’s wearing his favourite silver studs; two in his ears, one in his nose and one in his belly button which is just barely visible through his sheet shirt.  
  
“But you don’t know anything about me,” Harry says.  
  
“So tell me,” Louis says, “I want to know.”  
  
“I think that’s my cue.” Liam holds a hand out to Harry. “Nice to meet you, mate. Thanks for coming to my gig and, you know, for looking after my little bro.”  
  
Harry flutters his eyelashes down.  
  
“Don’t mention it, Liam.”  
  
Liam wanders away and Louis gets to have some time alone with the man who’s quickly taking up residence inside his heart.  
  
“So tell me, Harold Styles, do you want babies?”  
  
“Okay, first of all, how do you know my last name?” Harry cocks his head.  
  
Louis grins.  
  
“Instagram is an odd little contraption that is rather useful when it comes to stalking handsome citizens who like to give back to their own community.”   
  
“Oh really?” There’s those perfectly straight teeth again.  
  
“Yeppp. Soooo, babies.”  
  
It turns out Harry wants a whole platoon of babies. He also reads to children with disabilities at the local library and has always wished he had younger siblings. He’s owned his own cafe for five years after backpacking across the world for three. He’s in his mid-thirties, so, just a few years older than Louis, and there’s still so many things he wants to achieve. He’d love to earn some money busking and go skydiving for the first time and marry a boy who will drink mojitos with him on the beach.  
  
“Mojitos, hey?” Louis is twirling his straw around his glass and smiling into his drink.  
  
“Yeah.” Harry looks like quite pleased with himself. “I like a boy who’s not afraid of a ‘feminine’ drink.”  
  
“Mm.” Louis takes a long sip of his drink, cerulean eyes creasing happily. “Girly.”  
  
Harry laughs and drags Louis out into the centre of the pub. Liam is up on the stage, singing his heart out to Florence and The Machine’s version of Stand By Me. Most people are just rocking back and forth or immersed in quiet conversations. Not Harry and Louis. Harry pulls him close, holding one of Louis’ hands to his chest while clasping the other tight. They move around aching slow, carving out their own little spot in the centre of the pub. Their eyes stay locked, their breaths falling into the same synonymous rhythm.  
  
“You’re very sexy,” Harry breathes into his ear, “I’ve thought that from the moment I saw you.”  
  
“You’re crazy.” Louis laughs but his heart is going double time inside his chest.  
  
“Maybe I am,” Harry leans in and plants the softest kiss behind Louis ear. “But you’re completely bonkers."

Louis is a little bit put out. 

”Just so you're aware," Harry crushes Louis' hand to his chest, "everything about you turns me on.”

Louis arches his neck and huffs a breath of surprise.  
  
“That says more about you than me.”  
  
They spend the rest of the night laughing and flirting, their heads bent close together, their hands hovering over each other’s bodies, only daring to touch when the music rises to a sharp enough crescendo. At the end of the night, Harry offers to make him dinner the following day. Louis gives him a resounding yes.  
  
*-*-*-*  
  
Louis is due back at work tomorrow and it turns out Liam was right. He is not alright. He is not alright because of a certain gorgeous chef. He has already called Harry three times to try and cancel dinner.  
  
The first time went like this:  
  
“Lou? What’s up?”  
  
“Ah, I just think…maybe I’m not ready to date? I did just break up with Zayn a week ago and we were together for two years.”  
  
“How bout a non-date then?” Louis could hear him smiling.  
  
“A non-date?”  
  
“A non-date.”  
  
“How would that work exactly?”  
  
“Well, I would promise not to kiss or touch you in a way that could be misconstrued as more than friendly and then you wouldn’t have to fear the end of the date. Sorry, non-date.”  
  
Louis couldn’t help leaning into the kitchen counter and cocking his hip.  
  
“What if you really want to kiss me and I really want you to?”  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
“Then I suppose it’ll be up to both of us to control ourselves.”  
  
An hour later, Louis was flipping through TV channels when he started to panic again. What if it didn’t go well? Sure, their time at Liam’s gig had been nearly perfect and Louis had been more than a little surprised when Harry didn’t try to kiss him at the end of the night…but, what if this is different? What if there’s no chemistry when there’s not copious amounts of alcohol involved and romantic music playing in the background? Then what?  
  
“Lou. What’s up?” Harry was definitely grinning.  
  
“I’m just...I’m having second thoughts. Again. I’m just worried, Harry. What if it goes badly? You’re very kind, see and I’m worried you wouldn’t want to tell me.”  
  
Louis could hear heavy footsteps clomping up a familiar set of stairs and then the sounds of the cafe were drowned out by thick silence.  
  
“Why do you assume I’ll be the one to reject you?”  
  
“Are you joking?” Louis snorted.  
  
“No. Louis, you’ve got to stop being so down on yourself. You’re smart, attractive and brilliant. What happened the other night...that’s not a deal breaker. In fact, it’s what makes me so interested.”  
  
“What, the way I vomited on myself and then went to sleep, completely naked, in your bed?”  
  
Harry chuckles.  
  
“Well the last part is totally fine,” he chuckles, “but no, I meant how you obviously hadn’t completely let go like that in a while. I don’t know if it was the relationship you were in or if it’s just been a while but I could tell, despite everything, you had fun. It liberated you and it reminded me what it was like to be your age—“  
  
“I’m not that much younger than you!”  
  
“—and to be completely willing to change direction at a moment’s notice. You get knocked down, you get back up, right? I see that in you, Lou. And I have always wanted to meet someone who chases adventure. Well, I think adventure chases you instead and somehow, that’s even more exciting.”  
  
“Okay,” Louis had to sit down. Harry thought he was exciting.  
  
“So are we still on for our non-date?”  
  
“Okay.” Louis said in the same shell-shocked tone.  
  
Harry laughed and hung up.  
  
The third time, Louis decided it had been two long since he’d even been out to dinner with someone. It would be too much pressure.  
  
“Harry, I can’t go out to dinner with you. I don’t know what to wear or what to order or who pays. I just...I don’t think I’m ready for this.”  
  
“Hey,” Harry’s voice suddenly mellowed. “You know I’m not pressuring you, right? I’m only suggesting what I think would be good for us both. If you really don’t want to do this, that’s fine. But hey, can I make one more suggestion before you make up your mind?”  
  
Harry suggested he come and make dinner for Louis at Louis’ own flat. With butterflies streaming through his belly, Louis agreed.  
  
*-*-*-*  
  
Harry shows up with a box full of vegetables, a whole raw chicken and what looks like enough sugary ingredients to make a killer dessert.  
  
“Come in, come in.” Louis ushers him inside, a little bit shaky and sweaty.  
  
Harry smells like the prelude to sex and he’s decked out in what might just be his most seductive outfit yet. He’s got on a paper-thin black shirt that’s sheer all over. It’s tucked into high-waisted black trousers that highlight the insane length of his legs. They flair out at the ends but are fitted tight to his meaty thighs. His hair is swooped up and out of his eyes and he looks good enough to eat.  
  
“I um,” Louis gestures at his bare feet and grey joggers. “I was thinking I could just have a shower while you cook? Is that okay?”  
  
Harry leans in and smooths Louis’ fringe back, planting a kiss on his forehead.  
  
“Of course Lou. Go relax. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

 He’s such an angel.  
  
“You said you wouldn’t kiss me.” Louis wags a finger at him, still blushing from the touch.  
  
“Are you really mad or just fake mad?” Harry raises his eyebrows.  
  
“I plead the fifth.”  
  
Harry’s laughter follows him all the way upstairs.  
  
Once in the shower, Louis scrubs his skin raw, shaves everywhere just in case and then cleanses himself with lemon scented lotion. Once out, he moisturises and then pulls on a hastily decided upon outfit. It’s a pair of black jeggings and a red flannel shirt. He leaves it open at the centre to reveal a white shirt so sheer, it rivals even Harry’s. He dries and then fluffs up his hair, puts his piercings in and then wanders downstairs.  
  
There, he finds Harry chatting to Syrup.  
  
“Beautiful legs,” he’s saying, “and fit arms. Like wow. But like, he’s just kind of beautiful on the inside too, you know? You do know, don’t you? Bet you find him just as adorable as I do.”  
  
Louis bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.  
  
“Are you talking to my cat?”  
  
Harry jumps a foot, stumbling over his words as the pot lid he was holding clatters to the floor.  
  
“Uh, maybe. We were just talking about…Brad Pitt.”  
  
Louis walks up behind him and squeezes his hip. Time to wrestle control back.  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
“Y-yep.”  
  
Louis chuckles and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist from behind. He turns his face to the side and rests it against Harry’s back.  
  
“Thank you for making me dinner.”  
  
“It’s my pleasure.” Harry turns around to face him, a little glow emanating from within. “I love cooking for people.”  
  
“How did that happen, anyway?” Louis rests his hip against the side of the counter. “You own your own cafe and a food truck. That’s quite the portfolio.”  
  
“I wasn’t always a business man,” Harry tells him, turning to stir what looks like a tomato based sauce, “I used to be homeless, thanks to a bad drug habit.”  
  
Louis’ jaw drops and he scrabbles to retrieve it off the floor.  
  
“Don’t worry, it’s not true what they say. You can’t overcome homelessness by sheer will. I just happened to be good at charming people with big pockets. I got a break in a commercial kitchen and then went from there. When investors were lining up, I realised it was time to return what I relied upon in my community to that same community. I started feeding the homeless.”  
  
“Wow. That’s quite the success story.”  
  
Louis drifts over to the cutting board and steals some grated cheese. He’s just about to push it into his mouth when Harry grabs him by the wrist and pulls the cheese from his hand.  
  
“I need that, you little thief.”  
  
“Wow.” Louis echoes. “You and my mum have a lot in common.”  
  
Harry raises a concerned eyebrow.  
  
“Eyes in the back of your head.”  
  
Harry laughs.  
  
They spend the rest of the cooking time quizzing each other on their fondest memories as well as their worst. Louis tells Harry about the first time he took Lottie ice skating and how she was so good, he ended up signing her up for lessons. She’s a professional figure skater now. Harry tells him about the first time he stood atop the Sydney Harbour Bridge in Australia and knew he would never have to make it on the streets again. He’d run away from home at sixteen and when he finally returned, his family welcomed him with open arms.  
  
By the time, they sit down to eat, it’s Louis’ turn to talk about his worst memory and his stomach tightens.  
  
“It’s kind of...awful.” Louis face twists. “I mean, really awful.”  
  
Harry stops, fork halfway to his mouth. He reaches over and drags his thumb across the corner of Louis’ eye, catching a single tear.  
  
“Whatever it is made you who you are, you know? The worst things always do.”  
  
“I suppose,” Louis concedes, looking around his plush flat. He wouldn’t have half of the stuff in it if not for how hard he’d worked after he found out his mum was sick. “But it’s hard to talk about. It’s the day I found out my mum has leukemia.”  
  
“Oh Louis,” Harry stops eating and grabs both his hands, eyes locked on Louis’ collapsing face. “I’m so sorry, babe.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Louis says, then winces, “or, not really. She hasn’t got long, you know. I actually became a doctor to make her proud. I bought this flat because I knew she’d love it. I do everything I can just to be a good son and now she’s leaving. I sometimes...I wish she’d just take me with her when she goes.”  
  
Harry’s face is cracked down the middle and there’s real, visceral emotion spilling out from between.  
  
“I lost my stepdad, Robin.” He squeezes Louis’ fingers, hands shaking. “Watching my mum go through it was the worst thing I’ve ever been through. But, Lou, have you ever thought that when she does go, you’ll be birthing new life every day? She may leave but little ones are born every day, ready to bring new joy into this world. I know it doesn’t change anything massive but when Gems gave birth to her first, it felt like Robin was there with us. It felt like nothing could destroy what that little life meant to the world.”  
  
“The way you put things...” Louis shakes his head in disbelief. “It’s so beautiful, you know? I admire your spirituality.”  
  
“I admire how grounded you are.” Harry returns, turning Louis’ hand over inside his palm. “I have a tendency to forget the reality of relationships and just trust that the fairytale is all that matters.”  
  
“Sometimes it’s all that does.” Louis contends. “Sometimes, I think we should be able to have those moments without reality kicking us in the guts in between.”  
  
“Yeah.” Harry smiles down into his dinner and tangles his feet with Louis’.  
  
Dessert is chocolate mousse and salted caramel ice cream. They sit on the couch to eat and feed each other spoonfuls. Every time Harry’s pink tongue darts out to lick the underside of the spoon, Louis’ cock jolts inside his pants and he finds himself wanting to lick the chocolate off Harry’s teeth.  
  
“Permission to break non-date rules,” Louis breaks  
“Permission granted.”  
  
The bowls clatter on the dining room table where Louis disposes of them. He slides one knee down the side of the couch and the other around Harry’s waist, his palms finding the sides of Harry’s pale neck.  
  
“You’re gorgeous and I want to kiss you. Badly.”  
  
Harry nods, dumbstruck, and Louis leans in for a short kiss that turns into a hot, wet one. Their tongues meet in a messy tangle, pushing and pulling at each other with deep, wet strokes. Eventually Louis pulls away with an adoring sigh.  
  
“I knew you’d be a great kisser.”  
  
Harry just pulls him back in with a quiet “holy shit.” His tongue smooths patterns into the inside of Louis’ mouth while his hand pushes up and under Louis’ shirt, instantly finding his belly piercing.  
  
“So hot,” he mouths against the side of Louis’ throat. “I want to see you with nothing on but this.”  
  
He runs his hand over it while he sinks his teeth into Louis’ bottom lip. His hand is so hot and heavy on Louis’ stomach and Louis is aching just to get him naked.  
  
“Not tonight.” Louis pushes into the hands squeezing his arse. “But soon.”  
  
Harry kisses him again.  
  
“I’m so glad you ended up at my food truck.”  
  
Louis whines and gyrates into his lap, feeling messy and ready to be fucked, even though it can’t happen tonight.  
  
“You and me both, Harold, you and me both.”  
  
*-*-*-*  
  
_Three weeks later_  
  
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”  
  
“Are you going to say that every time I thrust?”  
  
Harry has one hand clenched around the headboard, showcasing the delicious sheen of sweat on his bicep, and one hand tangled in Louis’ hair, pulling just the right amount. His hips are smacking into Louis’ arse, shoving him up the bed every time, and reminding him how lucky he is to be dating a man with such a giant cock.  
  
“Shit, yes. Shit, can’t help it. Sorry, shit.”  
  
Harry’s laughter spills out against the backs of Louis’ shoulder blades where he drops several kisses.  
  
“It’s fine, baby. Curse away.”  
  
Harry turns him over then and wraps him up in his arms, ploughing into him, faster and deeper than before. The sounds between them are wet and guttural, Louis exhaling desperate sobs into Harry’s bare shoulder.  
  
“You feel so good, Lou.” His eyes are closed tight, a warm hand clasping Louis’ face whilst the other presses into Louis’ bottom lip. “I think I’m gonna come.”  
  
Louis whines and clenches around Harry. It sends Harry hurtling into an orgasm that ripples through him like a wave, making his feet cramp and his upper body shudder. Louis is so enthralled by it, he doesn’t even realise he’s coming until he feels Harry’s lips on his forehead.  
  
“Beautiful, Lou. You’re so fucking beautiful.”  
  
Louis kisses him for a while and then looks up at him with hearts in his eyes. Just outside the closed door, Cupcake and Syrup are spooning and it gives Louis more than a few ideas about what a family of theirs might one day look like.  
  
“Hey Harry?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“One day, let’s get married.”  
  
Harry smiles into their next kiss.  
  
“Let’s.”


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is emotional cheating in this and instances of it almost constituting physical cheating. BUT the ending is fluffy and happy and the cheating is both explained and underscored by complicated attachments. Of course it's never justified but this is based on a show and I think sometimes despite the fallibility of humanity, humans still manage to forgive and make it work so I think this is a prime example of that. The angst is worth it for the ending, I promise <3
> 
> I also have included Fizzy. I wasn't going to because I thought it might be too painful but this was my way of sending her off. I think it's very sweet and not at all sad.

Harry is bent down below the sink, retrieving Louis’ necklace, when Louis drops the bomb he’s been silently carrying around for weeks.   
  
“Babe, I have to tell you something.”  
  
Harry turns to him with a devastatingly handsome smile. Six weeks ago, he decided to cut his hair and donate it to charity. Louis wept a little, much to Harry’s amusement, but now his hair has grown and he has a collection of dark, corkscrew curls atop his head. In short, he looks adorable.  
  
“Don’t tell me you dropped another one of these.” He grins, pulling out the soggy, necklace.  
  
It’s the one Harry gave him for their six-month anniversary and Louis has never owned anything so special. It’s a silver heart locket with their dates of birth inscribed on the front and a picture of Harry smooching him on the forehead inside.  
  
“No,” Louis laughs, stilted. He shuffles from side to side, hoping he looks cute enough in his denim cut-offs that Harry won’t be mad. “My ex is coming to town this weekend.”  
  
“Which ex?” Harry is still smiling when he stands. He drops the necklace into Louis’ palm and wraps his fingers around it.  
  
Louis swallows noisily, his eyes fleeing to the boiling kettle which is currently exhibiting about the same amount of tension as him.  
  
“Well...we were a thing. He worked in the hospital and we were a thing.”  
  
Harry picks up his hand rubs his thumb back and forth across the tops of Louis’ fingers. Louis had once asked why he always does that when he’s nervous and Harry had calmly and very sweetly told him that the world can never end if he’s holding Louis’ hand. Louis had blushed, stammered and eventually told Harry he loved him, for the very first time. Harry wept.  
  
“Should I be worried?” Harry asks, watching him closely.  
  
It’s become evident over the last twelve months that Harry is an accomplished detective when it comes to reading Louis’ thoughts. Like, he can spot a dark mood coming a mile away. Plus, he’s always there to pick up the pieces before they have much of a chance to fall apart.  
  
Louis still remembers being carried all the way home from his mum’s house when she passed away. He’d been screaming, crying and generally disturbing everyone else’s silent grief. He was locked in a world of agony he couldn’t escape and the thought of it still makes him shudder, to this day. But then Harry had ridden in on his white horse. He collected Louis up into his arms like he was a medic and Louis was a fallen soldier, waiting to be rescued by his wartime love.  
  
“Of course not.” Louis smiles, too bright. “Chase is just here for his convention, not me.”  
  
Except he emailed Louis last week to say he was looking forward to seeing him and after wrestling with it for a while, Louis had finally emailed back “you too.”  
  
Chase’s departure from his life all those years ago had left a gaping hole the size of a meteor. He was Louis’ first love and the only person, aside from Harry, he’s ever really believed he would marry. Then he up and left to pursue his dream job in Japan and four years later, Harry shot into his solar system; a bright stream of light screaming across a dark, lonely void.  
  
“He emailed me.” Louis blurts at Harry, cheeks pink with hysteria. “He said he’s looking forward to seeing me. I said “you too.””  
  
Harry gives him one of his silent, steady looks where the unshakeable calm of his eyes reflects the mania in Louis’.  
  
“But there’s nothing to worry about, right?” Harry raises a perfectly thick eyebrow.  
  
Louis swallows.  
  
“No, nothing to worry about.”  
  
Harry wraps his muscled arms around him and kisses his hair.  
  
“Then stop fussing.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Three days and counting till Chase arrives and the walls of the hospital have never loomed so large.  
  
“You’re picturing Chase as the arrogant young cowboy and Harry as the dashing stranger who just moved into town, aren’t you?”

 

Niall has just rudely butted into his daydream.  
  
“No.” Louis narrows his eyes, pushing past a food cart and stumbling right into a crash cart that someone’s left in the middle of the hall. Niall snorts and pushes it out of the way for him. “And technically, Chase would be the dashing stranger from out of town seeing as he no longer lives here.”  
  
“That still cuts you, doesn’t it?” He cocks his head. “Does Harry know you’re still this invested?”  
  
“Invested?” Louis laughs, false and bright. “How could I be invested in someone who completely abandoned me to pursue another man?”  
  
Niall gives him a look that says this only cements his argument.  
  
“Oh shush, Niall.” Louis snaps and whacks him with the patient file. “Harry and I have a good thing going and I’m not going to let anything or anyONE ruin it.”  
  
Niall sighs disbelievingly and waves at a single mother who’s just been discharged. She looks soft and pretty with patchy pink cheeks, newly straightened hair and a pale pink pantsuit clinging to her curves.  
  
“But does Harry know about Chase?” Niall grabs him by the bicep, pulling him to a stop just outside their ward.  
  
There are nurses darting back and forth between the delivery room and the nursery, and even with the door closed, the sounds of high-pitched wailing can be heard. Louis will admit he kind of misses the sound when he’s not here. It’s the sound of burgeoning life and the poignancy of that becomes pivotal when you’re there to witness a child being stillborn or when a mother passes away before she even gets a chance to hear her child’s cries. Then, those cries sound like tiny miracles.  


“Yeah,” Louis says, “I told him.”

  
“The whole story? Like, the fact that Chase is a dreamy paediatrician who you used to lock eyes with across the room pre-Zayn?”  
  
“Um.” Louis is eloquent as ever. “Not exactly.”  
  
“Lou!”  
  
“I told him Chase and I were a thing, okay?” Louis’ eyes stray from the Niall’s frowning face. “But I also told him there was nothing to worry about...”  
  
“Well, is there?” Niall presses, wide eyed.  
  
“I really hope not.”  
  
He makes a hasty exit, heading straight for the room with the babies. Once in, he picks up his new favourite; Abby. She’s just two days old and already she’s mastered the beginnings of a smile. When he rubs his forefinger across her cheek, she nuzzles into it, her pale eyelids squished close as tiny wrinkles fill the surrounding skin. Babies really are just like kittens at this age and Louis has a surplus of love for both.

 

When he thinks about telling Harry the extent of his relationship with Chase, it terrifies him and so he needs exactly this. It’s a baby’s radiant warmth and unassuming reliance on its carers that steals over his heart and breathes calm back into it.  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Once a month, Harry wines and dines Niall, Liam, Nick and Greg. He doesn’t invite Louis who is always incredibly miffed about that fact and spends the whole evening sending passive aggressive texts. “I hope you’re having fun with my boys, babe,” he’ll send, or, “I’m fucking myself with two fingers and you’re drinking foul tasting beer with my friends.” The latter is more savage than passive, actually, because Harry is near powerless to resist touching Louis’ body, let alone Louis touching his own.  
  
The thing is that Harry is building a new life for them and building a new life means knowing the intricacies of the one that came before him.  
  
The two of them have multiple dinners a month with the boys but Harry demands that one Friday of every month be kept free for what is essentially a meeting of family. When Louis’ not here, Harry can make inroads to becoming one of them without Louis knowing just how intensely he’s committed. Scaring him off is not something he ever plans to do.  
  
“Are you okay, Niall?” Harry has noticed the midwife neglecting each and every one of the ice-cold brews Harry has placed in front of him. “You’ve been deathly quiet.”  
  
“Um...yeah.”  
  
“Oh Jesus.” Harry shakes his head, grinning. “Don’t tell me you had a fling with Chase too.”  
  
Niall’s eyes dart back and forth between the other boys whose pasted on smiles are disconcerting.  
  
“A fling?” Niall raises an eyebrow. “Is that what he called it?”  
  
“It wasn’t a fling.” Nick’s hand shoots out to grab Harry’s shoulder. He looks almost offended by Louis’ claim. “It was like...”  
  
“Holmes and Watson.” Greg butts in, finger raised. “If Holmes had a missing boyfriend named Justin who turned up to reclaim his love,” he pauses, “…and then Holmes fucked off to Japan with said missing boyfriend, leaving Watson devastated and alone.”  
  
Harry swallows, his pink tongue tracing his chapped lips. Louis hadn’t mentioned all rgar.  
  
“No,” Liam argues, “it was like...Jack and Rose, if Rose were an awkward, scatter brained obstetrician whose collection of owl ornaments kind of turned Jack on.”  
  
“You do realise you’re talking about your little brother’s arousal?” Harry says.  
  
Liam shrugs and sips his beer, wiping the froth from his mouth.  
  
“There was kisses in on call rooms and tears behind the nurse station,” Nick says, “and by god, there were a lot of false starts.” He leans across the grimy table. “Chase and Louis were like star crossed lovers who both die at the end.”  
  
Harry grimaces. This story is not the same as the one he’s been told. This story is the kind of blockbuster that ends with Louis in Chase’s heroic arms.  
  
“So you’re saying it was a big deal?”  
  
Greg looks at the other boys, who seem to be screaming all kinds of protests with their eyes, then leans in real close, his mouth forming a grim line.  
  
“It was a bona fide Shakespearian tragedy in the middle of St Martha’s.”  
  
Niall elbows him sharply in the side and Harry stands, shouldering his work bag.  
  
“If you’ll excuse me. I think I need some air.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Louis is lying in the circle of Harry’s embrace on their couch and wriggling to get comfortable. Harry squeezes his waist, silently telling him to settle, then kisses the side of his hair. He’s been back from his night out with the boys for all of five minutes but he must have known Louis needed this. He always does after a long day delivering babies and being harassed by over protective fathers. They never seem to understand that Louis is just as committed to protecting their loved ones as they are.  
  
“Is it possible that this Chase thing is a bigger deal than I thought?”  
  
Harry’s breath is short and hot against Louis’ face and he squeezes Louis’ middle increasingly tighter, the longer the silence grows.  
  
“Why do you say that?”  
  
“The boys seem to think—“  
  
“I wish everyone would just calm down,” Louis huffs, rolling over to face him.  
  
Harry squeezes his bicep, thumb sliding down Louis’ tensed muscle.  
  
“I’m calm.” There’s a little wrinkle between Harry’s eyebrows now. “Are you?”  
  
“Of course. It’s no big deal.” Louis’ voice comes out strained. He’s thinking about the last time Chase held him, exactly like this, and told him that he loved him but that he had to leave.  
  
“So I shouldn’t be worried?”  
  
“Nope.” Louis chimes and immediately regrets it.  
  
Why did he open his big mouth? No, rather, why didn’t he? He should just tell Harry about his history with Chase but something about it feels distinctly theirs, as if Harry’s knowledge of it would make it seem infinitely more painful or dark than it really was. Chase hurt him, sure, but he also helped Louis discover his own body and seek the kind of relationship he didn’t know he needed.  
  
“Okay. Are you worried about the convention tomorrow? The fact that he invited you—-“  
  
“Us. He invited us.”  
  
Harry quirks an eyebrow, dimples making themselves known.  
  
“You told your ex about me?”  
  
Louis should just shrivel up and die. Another falsehood. Another lie. A wire between his brain and his tongue has just come loose and he wonders how long it’ll take him to reconnect it.  
  
*-*-*-*-*

 

Clouds – One Direction  
  
One hour and counting until the convention. Louis is sat on the bedroom floor, rereading the letter Chase sent him from Japan. It came a week after he’d left and it had taken Louis six weeks to open it. Now he keeps it in a jewellery box with all the trinkets his mum left to him.  
  
_Dear Louis,  
I am so sorry that I had to leave like I did, when I did, and that neither of us ever saw it coming. I still love you, I can’t lie about that, but Justin is back and I have to do him the respect of figuring out whether I can fall back in love with him. I can’t ignore how much our relationship meant then and how much it still means now. I’m so sorry, Lou. I hope you move on and find the happiness you deserve.  
Love,  
Chase._  
  
“I have that happiness,” Louis mutters, passing a hand over his forehead.  
  
So why is he suddenly so unsure of it? Why is he planting little nukes every time he has a conversation about this with Harry? Soon it’s all going to blow up in his face. He still can’t bring himself to admit to Harry how deep this thing runs. Admitting that would mean admitting how uncertain he feels about seeing Chase. It would mean admitting how very turbulent it makes his heart.  
  
“Helloooo. Lou.”  
  
It’s Liam, stomping through his flat, probably in search of a nice blazer for the convention. Niall Nick and Greg are also invited but Liam was one of Chase’s closest friends while he was here. The irony is not lost on him that now Harry has filled that role. He and Liam play squash at the local rec centre every Monday night.  
  
“I’m in here!”  
  
Liam stomps into the room but stops short at the sight of Louis crumpled on the floor, fondling a very crinkled but very familiar looking letter.  
  
“Are you reading that letter from Chase?”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
“Do you not think it’s best you don’t obsess over your ex before your boyfriend arrives?” Liam kneels down beside him and folds the letter up, placing it back in the jewellery box. “By the way, can I borrow a tie?”  
  
Louis hands him a pale blue one that will go well with the dark of his blazer.  
  
“I’m not obsessing over him,” Louis can’t help raising his voice. “Chase is—WAS—was the best thing in my life but it’s done now.”  
  
Harry chooses that moment to walk in, rubbing the end of his tie between two fingers and looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.  
  
“I, um, let myself in?”  
  
“Well I should hope so. You do live here.” Louis walks over to him, smoothing a hand across his soft purple shirt, and moulding their lips together. “Hi babe.”  
  
“Hey.” Harry smiles into the kiss, hands sliding across Louis’ cheeks and into the sides of his quiff. “You look gorgeous.”  
  
“I split the seams on my blazer trying to squeeze into it,” Louis tells him. “And ended up using your super allergenic shaving cream instead of my hypoallergenic one.”  
  
He points at his chin which is now an unattractive shade of mottled red. Harry cackles, delighted.  
  
“That’s my boy.” His eyes are bright, bright jade. “Is that what I smell on you?”  
  
He leans in and runs his nose up Louis’ jawline, making him shiver/  
  
“You smell so good with my scent on you.”  
  
“Oh Christ,” Liam waves his hand at them, walking to the door. “I’m leaving before Harry starts defiling you.”  
  
The door clicks shut behind him and Harry sweeps Louis up into an embrace. Harry’s hands reach down to grip his arse and he kneads it roughly.  
  
“Your bum in these trousers,” he huffs. “It’s a revelation. I would love to defile you if we had time.”  
  
“I would love to be defiled.”  
  
Louis runs his tongue across his upper lip, pulling a pained groan from Harry’s pink lips.  
  
“I’m going to ravish you later, I promise.”  
  
Louis tugs him to the door, lips quirked.  
  
“I’m counting on it.”  
  
*-*-*-*

 

Girl Almighty – One Direction  
  
Louis can’t help looking at Harry as they approach the venue and the more he looks at him, the more he hates himself for lying. Harry’s done himself up in all black with tight suit pants, an open collared shirt and a leather jacket. His skin is pale and milky, reflecting the yellowish-pink of the sky. It’s as though he’s always a blank canvas, just begging to be painted.  
  
He’s beautiful, is the thing. In all kinds of ways. Every morning he wakes Louis up with a kiss, a grope of his bum and a piping hot cup of Yorkshire. It’s the kind of offering Louis would never expect but now that he’s gotten used to it, he knows he couldn’t live without it.  
  
He’s worked with Harry in the soup truck and watched from the back as Harry tells woman after woman with bruised faces and deep shadows under their eyes that the blue of their eyes reminds him of the crystal clear waters off the coast of Cosi Samui; that their hair is so lovely and thick, it’d make a great wig.  
  
He’s seen Harry working out the back in the cafe, piping cupcakes and writing new recipes onto thick cardstock that he keeps in a pristine silver folder. He shows the same concentration doing that as it takes Louis to deliver a baby that doesn’t want to budge or to convince a mother who doesn’t want to push that she’s almost done. It’s like those recipes give him life, the same way Louis gives life to a screaming baby that just wants to be born.

  
Harry is beautiful in so many ways and Louis is the bastard that let his ex get into his head.  
  
“You’re twitchy.” Harry doesn’t stop walking but his head inclines left, like he’s been watching Louis this whole time.  
  
“I wish everyone would stop telling me how I feel,” Louis snaps, rubbing at his temples.  
  
“You want to know what I think?” Harry doesn’t wait for his response. “You’re getting frustrated with me because you feel guilty for wanting to see your ex. You don’t have to start a fight with me to give you a reason to feel guilty. I get it.”  
  
Louis huffs, taken by surprise in the best possible way.  
  
“How could you possibly be so understanding?”  
  
Harry cups his cheeks and softly brushes their lips together. Once. Twice. Three times. He rubs their noses together and squeezes Louis’ hand.  
  
“Because I love every single part of you, even the ones you’re ashamed of.”  
  
“I love you too.” He swallows. “So fucking much.”  
  
Harry chuckles and pulls him towards the venue.  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Once inside, Louis’ temporary calm flees him. Chase is standing smack bang in the centre of Louis’ colleagues, throwing his head back on an outrageously handsome laugh.  
  
His dark hair is windswept and gorgeous and he looks flawless in a black three-piece suit. It’s precisely the moment Louis realises Harry and Chase are both dressed in all black.  
  
“Is that him?” Harry follows his stare to the tan, 6-foot-5 paediatrician, charming every single one of his friends.  
  
“Yep.” Louis’ voice is strangled. “That’s Chase.”  
  
Harry leaves him gaping at his past and steps into the fray, clasping Chase’s hand in a strong, confident handshake.  
  
“Chase, is it?” He smiles with all his teeth; a stunning display of confidence. “I’m Harry, an anaesthetist at St. Martha’s. I’ve heard so much about you.”  
  
Chase smiles back, grasping Harry’s elbow and shaking his hand just as firmly.  
  
“Oh really, from who?”  
  
Louis holds his breath.  
  
“From Louis, of course.”  
  
They both turn at the exact same moment, smiles suspended in the air before him.  
  
“You said—“ Harry frowns.  
  
“I said I couldn’t wait for you two to meet.” Louis grabs Harry by the arm, swooping in there to prevent his lies from being exposed.  
  
“Hi Louis.” Chase is doing that thing with his eyes where he stares into Louis’ soul and digs into whatever he finds.  
  
“H-hi,” Louis stammers.  
  
A bespectacled man taps the microphone on stage and then beckons to Chase who nods and flashes a thumbs up. Chase squeezes his elbow on his way past.  
  
“That’s my cue. Good to see you, Lou. Nice to meet you, mate.” He smiles at Harry.  
  
Louis gazes after him long after he’s reached the stage, his heart thundering away in his chest. What was that elbow squeeze? What was that glazed over, sparkly eyed smile aimed right at Louis’ heart?  
  
“Hi everyone.” Chase claps his hands together, rocking on his feet. “I feel so privileged to be here this evening to talk to you about maternal care and how it determines the outcomes of low birth weight and premature babies...”  
  
Chase’s speech goes for a total of ten minutes and Louis spends the entire time casting his memory back to all the times they stood on the hospital balcony, talking about the future they might have together.  
  
When it’s done, Louis makes a beeline for the drinks table where he quickly downs two flutes of champagne. Harry comes up behind him and passes a warm hand over the backs of his shoulders.  
  
“If you tilt your head back, it’ll go down faster,” he says, lips quirked.  
  
“I, um—“  
  
“Lou, it’s fine.” Harry thumbs at his ear. “I know how hard it would have been to tell your ex you were rocking up with your new boyfriend. I just wish you had been honest with me.”  
  
“I’m so sorry.” Louis presses up onto his tiptoes and covers Harry’s lips with his own, softly slipping his tongue in between. It’s a little bit too hot and a little bit too wet for such a public space but Louis has some convincing to do. “But I’m with you. I love you.”  
  
“I know.” Harry squeezes his waist, a luminous smile spreading across his cheeks. “I love you too, baby.”  
  
They spend the rest of the night orbiting each other, ignoring the world around them while feeding each other canapés and making crude jokes about the artwork in the gallery.

  
Louis ignores the eyes he can feel on him. They stay pressed to him, leaving him tacky, from the moment he seeks out the drinks table to the moment he shrugs on his jacket at the end and pushes out the doors.  
  
The cold slices into him the moment he steps outside and he rubs his hands together, blowing hot air into them.  
  
“Lou.” It’s Chase, stepping out behind him with his coat on his arm. “It’s good to see you. How have you been?”  
  
“Oh, you know.” Louis shrugs. What is he supposed to say to that? That he’s been heartbroken and pining over Chase ever since he left? Or that he’s moved on, that he’s better off for it? “What about you? How’s Justin?”  
  
“He’s good.” Chase nods but there’s a note of something uncertain in his voice. “Better.”  
  
Justin had taken off a year after Chase had married him. For two years, he’d searched for him before briefly pursuing Louis. Then, Justin had returned, Chase had received a job offer in Japan and the rest, as they say, is history.  
  
“I’m glad.”  
  
The air between them is thick like chocolate and sticky like syrup. Louis can feel confusion brewing faster than he can dispel it. He’s happy with Harry. He’s happy...isn’t he?  
  
Harry chooses that moment to walk out, eyes darting hyperactively between the two of them, before he schools his expression into one of quiet content.  
  
“You ready?” He asks Louis and holds out a hand to him, ignoring Chase completely.  
  
Louis knits their fingers, smiling softly.  
  
“As I’ll ever be.”  
  
They turn to go. Chase’s deep voice wafts after them.  
  
“Goodbye Louis.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
They’re getting changed for bed when Harry suddenly stops, his fingers gripping his tie far too tight for it to be natural.  
  
“I can’t stop thinking about the way you looked at him.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Louis says, busying himself with unbuttoning his shirt.  
  
Harry violently rips his tie away and hangs it up in their shared closet.  
  
“You were downright starry eyed. It was like you wished I would disappear.”  
  
“Harry,” Louis rubs at his temples, “I came with you. I spent the whole night with you.”  
  
“You were constantly aware of him. Every time he moved, you moved.”  
  
Louis chokes back his surprise. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.  
  
“Look, Chase and I...we weren’t just a fling.” He shrugs his shirt off and plonks himself down on the bed, deflating quickly. “There was a bond there. There were moments of real happiness and real...potential. But it wasn’t a real relationship. We never had sex. We never had a real fight.”  
  
“Oh, so because it was never real, I can’t compete with him?” Harry flops back on the bed. “He’ll always be perfect in your eyes, won’t he?”  
  
“I can’t change what happened, Harry. I can only tell you that I want you. I’ll always want you.”  
  
Harry’s hand slides up his bare side, leaving goosebumps in its wake.  
  
“I never want to lose you,” he confesses, eyelashes beating a rapid pulse against his cheeks.  
  
Louis presses a kiss to the insides of his fingers.  
  
“You could never.”  
  
Harry lays his palms flat on Louis’ shoulders and pushes him back into the bed. Then he settles over him, pressing his tongue into Louis’ mouth. A moan builds inside Louis’ throat and he wraps his legs around Harry’s waist.  
  
“I want this.” Louis whines, twining his amrs around the back of Harry’s neck. “I need you like this..”  
  
Harry responds by running his thumb over one of Louis’ pebbled nipples. When Louis whimpers, Harry grips his arse and squeezes, hard.  
  
“You have me.” Harry bites at his bottom lip, smoothing his thumb across Louis’ cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
Harry lays him out on the bed and eats him out for the next hour, pushing his tongue in and out of Louis until Louis’ hole is puffy and pink from it and his eyes are wet with pleasure. Louis comes with a particularly deep thrust of Harry’s tongue, then returns the favour by letting Harry fuck his mouth.  
  
“You’re beautiful like this,” Harry says in the early hours of the morning, fingers slowly drifting back and forth across Louis’ face. “When sleep makes you foggy and you just stare of into the distance and smile at nothing.”  
  
Louis can feel the aforementioned sleep addled smile making an appearance. He puckers his lips, begging for a kiss, and is rewarded with a very sweet brush of Harry’s lips.  
  
“Love you Haz. You’re so cuggly.”  
  
Louis squeezes his middle and Harry chuckles into his hair.  
  
“What’s cuggly, baby?”  
  
“You’re cuddly and huggable.” Louis’ eyes are closed now. “That makes you cuggly. Obviously.”  
  
“Oh, of course.” He’s still laughing. “Sorry baby.”  
  
They fall asleep cuddled together, Louis smiling into Harry’s muscled pec.  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
The next morning dawns bright and ominous. Louis is stopped by Niall before he even gets close to the nurse station.  
  
“Lou, we should talk.”  
  
He drags Louis into an on call room by his lanyard and pushes him down onto one of the thin, hard beds Louis spent more of his first year in.  
  
“I feel like we’re about to have sex,” Louis comments, looking up at Niall whose cock is at actual eye level.  
  
“We’re not going to have sex, you git.” Niall pinches his arm. “I just thought you might want to sit down for this.”  
  
“Sit down for what? Niall...what did you do?”  
  
Niall scratches at the back of his fluffy blonde hair.  
  
“Well, you know how I was babysitting Theo this morning?”  
  
“Yes...” Louis is wary. What does little Theo have to do with Louis?  
  
“Well he had an asthma attack. A bad one. He’s okay,” he assures Louis’ whose anxiety levels just visibility elevated, “but I was worried. It’s never happened before. So I called Chase.”  
  
“Niall—“  
  
“And we had a bit of a chat...”  
  
“Ni-alll.”  
  
“And it turns out, he and Justin separated not long after he left. They’re still in touch but they’re no longer together.”  
  
Louis is so glad Niall forced him to sit down because the air in his lungs is swallowed up by a black hole. The knowledge spreads through his body like a paralytic poison, infecting everything he knows with major doubt.  
  
“I can’t believe this. Why didn’t he tell me?” Louis mutters, putting his head between his knees. “This is huge.”  
  
“And that’s not all,” says Niall. “Apparently Liam’s offered him a job here. Lou, he’s thinking of taking it.”  
  
Louis doesn’t waste any time in storming down the hall to Liam’s office and barging in. Liam disconnects the call he was on and places his hands out in a calming gesture.  
  
“Before you say it—“  
  
“How could you?” Louis shouts. “How could you put me in a position where I have to choose between the love of my life and the former love of my life?”  
  
Liam pauses then rubs at his stubble.  
  
“But which one is which?”  
  
Louis stops short, breath gusting out of him. He lets out a dry laugh.  
  
“Oh god knows. My head is completely fucked. Did he ask for the job? What exactly did he say?”  
  
Liam gives him a measured look.  
  
“He said he was looking to put up roots here and that he might accept a position here, however, it depends.”  
  
“On what?” Louis wants to pull his hair out. “It depends on what?”  
  
“My best guess is...you.” Liam stands up and rounds his desk. He pulls Louis into a rough hug, holding him tight. “Lou, you need to talk to him. Properly. I love Harry, I do, but if Chase would make you happy...”  
  
Louis pulls away, his throat suddenly thick.  
  
“I owe it to myself to try, don’t I?”  
  
Liam nods.  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Stockholm Syndrome – One Direction

 

Chase finds him on Their Balcony, struggling to breathe. He’s got his head between his knees, his hands flat on his thighs.  


“Lou, are you okay?” He rubs at Louis’ upper back.

 

“No.” Louis shoots up, knocking his hand away. “I am definitely not okay.”  
  
“You came here. To our balcony. Does that mean something?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Louis’ laugh is so sharp, it bites at the innocence of Chase’s hopeful smile. “Did it mean something when you up and left me for Japan?”  
  
“You know that wasn’t the only reason I left. I had to try and work things out with Justin. I had to.”  
  
“I know.” Louis’ eyes drift shut; his muscles gone slack. “I know that.”  
  
“But I’m here now,” Chase squeezes his bicep, “and I want to talk about things with you. How would you feel about dinner? Tonight? At our restaurant?”  
  
“I—“ Louis swallows back a refusal. “I feel like you’re right. We do need to talk.”  
  
Chase’s smile slowly unfurls across his lips.  
  
“So. Dinner?”  
  
“Yes.” Louis’ hands are shaking. “Absolutely.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Louis is walking to his car when Harry wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him into his side.  
  
“Dinner tonight?” He says, kissing his way up Louis’ throat.  
  
“I can’t. I have a...family thing,” Louis winces, waiting for the lie to blow up in his face.  
  
“Oh, that’s fine.” Harry kisses him for a long moment. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’m just here to drop off a casserole for Niall.”  
  
He’s so sweet and so charming. Louis doesn’t deserve him.  
  
“See you then.” He passes his hand over Harry’s sculpted jaw, memorising its perfect shape. Just in case. “I love you.”  
  
Harry’s smile is the one he wears just for Louis.  
  
“I love you too.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*

 

Steal My Girl – One Direction  
  
They meet at their corner table in the small Italian restaurant where Chase took him on their first date. The ambience is unparalleled, with candlelit tables, a collection of slow ballads playing in the background and a vast assortment of red wine that enhances the pallet without staining the teeth.  
  
When Louis gets there, Chase stands and kisses him on the cheek. His lips are warmer and softer than Louis remembers. They sit down and Louis is hard pressed not to be awestruck. There’s a silver light of excitement shining from Chase’s dark brown eyes and he looks flawless in a grey dinner jacket and tight black slacks. Louis had opted for a short sleeved blue shirt which matches his eyes and black skinnies.  
  
“You look incredible.” Chase tells him, face folded into gentle creases.  
  
“You went to Japan.” Louis says, abruptly changing the subject.  
  
“You gave me mixed signals. I didn’t know what you wanted.” Chase counters, the smile slipping from his cheeks.  
  
“I wanted you,” Louis breathes, “all I ever asked for was you.”  
  
The waiter interrupts them, holding out the wine list and two menus. Chase takes them both and hands one to Louis. The waiter leaves them to the tense atmosphere currently building heat between them.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Chase finally says, reaching out to fold his fingers around Louis’. “Leaving you killed me, Lou. It was a huge mistake, maybe the biggest of my life.”  
  
Louis’ heart feels like two cymbals clanging together, trying to get him to make a decision.  
  
“That’s a big call to make. Is that...I mean...” Louis blushes. “What happened with you and Justin? Niall told me—“  
  
“It was everything.” Chase signals the waiter and recites their orders from memory, right down to Louis’ preferred brand of wine. “It was bad timing and even worse fights. It was the wrong place and the wrong house and the wrong person and all I could think about was you.”  
  
Louis’ eyelashes flutter. He’s disturbed by the threat of a new reality that doesn’t consist of he and Harry ending up together. The thought fills him with as much agony as it does confusion.  
  
“I don’t know how I can...” Louis shakes his head. “God, Chase. I’m with Harry now.”  
  
“Does he make you happy?” Chase presses.  
  
“Unequivocally so.” Louis answers and knows that it’s true. “Why did you have to pick now?!”  
  
He fell for Harry hook line and sinker and there’s no going back now. His eyes fill with tears because he can’t bear to lose Chase twice.  
  
“I’m sorry, I have to go.” He scrambles up and out of his seat, scurrying across the restaurant and out into the open air.  
  
“Louis!”  
  
Chase follows him outside, grabs him by the shoulders and wheels him around. He’s panting heavily and his eyes are darting back and forth across Louis’ wild eyed expression.  
  
“I can’t lose you again,” he says, echoing Louis’ thoughts, then leans in to kiss him.  
  
Louis huffs into his mouth, fingers instinctively sliding deep into Chase’s hair where the softness of his fringe meets his thick quiff. Their lips slide against each other for all of ten seconds before Louis rears back with a gasp.  
  
“I can’t—I really can’t,” he says, shaking his head rapidly. “I am not this person.”  
  
His eyes fill with ashy tears and he turns his back on the former love of his life.  
  
*-*-*-*-*

 

Spaces – One Direction  
  
Chase texted him last night after their kiss. All it said is, “ _I leave tomorrow. Meet me at my hotel before I go. If there’s any chance of us working this out, I’ll stay. Please Louis. My heart is unmistakably yours. C_.”  
  
It’s enough to derail him completely. He rolls over onto his side and finds Harry sleeping next to him. His adorably puffy morning face is the picture of innocence. Louis had slid into bed last night, feeling sick with guilt. This morning, the feeling is even more potent.  
  
He shakes Harry awake and kisses him good morning but pushes away the hands that paw at his half naked body.  
  
“No, no wait.” Louis says, eyes squeezed closed. “I have something to tell you.”  
  
“You forgot to pick up your suit for Niall and Shawn’s recommitment ceremony? I know, I picked it up for you, love.”  
  
Tears slide down the sides of Louis’ cheeks.  
  
“You’re so lovely, Harry.”  
  
Louis doesn’t dare open his eyes. The silence lasts an age.  
  
“Why are you saying it like that?”  
  
“Because I kissed Chase. Or...he kissed me. I stopped it. As soon as I knew what I was doing but it...it happened. We had dinner last night. I wasn’t with my family. I’m so sorry.”  
  
He peers at Harry from beneath heavy eyelids. He finds the man he loves blistering with frustration.  
  
“Why would you lie about having dinner with him? I’m not stupid, Louis. I knew you were going to have to see him and talk things through. How could you stand there yesterday and lie to my face?”  
  
He’s rubbing at his forehead, his eyelids filled deep creases.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Harry.” He reaches out for his boyfriend but Harry pulls away.  
  
“I think I should go and stay with Nick.” He slides off the end of the bed and thrusts his arms through a crinkled white shirt. “I think we both need some space.”  
  
“But I don’t want any space.” Louis is openly crying now, rubbing his nose with his sleeve and barely holding back sobs.  
  
Harry turns his back on him.  
  
“You should have thought of that before you lied. Louis, I don’t want to share you and I don’t want to lose you so what do you suggest I do?”  
  
Louis can’t come up with an answer for him and Harry shakes his head, shoulders pulled taut.  
  
“I need you to figure out what you want,” he says, avoiding Louis’ eyes. “I need to know if I’m not it.”  
  
Then he shuts the door behind himself.  
  
*-*-*-*-*

 

Fool’s Gold – One Direction  
  
Louis is showering before the recommitment ceremony when the buzzer goes.  
  
“Just a minute,” he yells, even though they can’t hear him.  
  
He turns off the tap and with water dripping from his fingers, buzzes them up. While he’s waiting, he slips into a threadbare dressing gown and towel dries his hair. There’s a knock at the door and he pulls it open, expecting someone from his family.  
  
“Hi.”  
  
It’s Chase, carrying a present that must be for Niall and showing off a smile brighter than it has any right to be at a time like this.  
  
“You can’t be here,” Louis tells him but his voice is breathless.  
  
“I know.” He steps forward into Louis’ space and clasps his face, leaning in to kiss him.  
  
Louis gasps into the intimacy of it but reacts quicker this time, pushing him away with force. At that moment, he turns his head away and finds that Harry has appeared in the open doorway. He’s holding a small box, delicately wrapped in gold paper. He’s decked out in a black suit with large white flowers covering its surface and his hair is pushed back behind his ears. He looks photographable and edible and now, breakable.  
  
His face is ashen, his eyes are dim and he has never moved so cautiously around Louis. He places the present on the floor, watching them both as though they might leap forward and attack him, then turns to go.  
  
“Please go.” Louis begs of Chase, burying his head in his hands.  
  
A large hand squeezes his shoulder.  
  
“I’m sorry. I know the timing is bad—“  
  
“The timing is ridiculous,” Louis snaps.  
  
“But I had to try. I have to know that I’ve done everything to be with you. Meet me at the Liall hotel tonight. Please. Give me your final decision then. If it’s not me, I’ll go but if it is...” his adam’s apple bobs. “We could have everything together.”  
  
Louis nods silently and absently. He’s thinking about Harry’s turned back. As soon as Chase leaves, he runs down the fire escape and across the street. He finds Harry walking past the Thai place they’d eaten at when they decided to move in together. Harry’s back is hunched and he casts a sad but striking shadow, reminding Louis of everything he stands to lose.  
  
“Harry!” He calls. “Wait!”  
  
Harry turns around. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he looks up at Louis from beneath wet eyelashes.  
  
“What is it, Louis?”  
  
“Please don’t go.” He gasps, breath escaping him at the thought of losing this. “I want you.”  
  
“I don’t think you know what you want,” Harry shakes his head, the shadows beneath his eyes looming large. “And I’m just about done waiting for you to figure it out.”  
  
“Harry.” It comes out like begging and Louis doesn’t even care. There are tears fogging up his eyes and he brushes them away with an angry swipe.  
  
“I can’t do this with you right now, Lou. I’m sorry.”  
  
Harry squeezes his shoulder, thumb tracing the veins there. Then he turns and walks away, his head hanging low. He looks like a death row inmate waiting for an executioner. The awful thing is, Louis might be the one to bring about his demise.  
  
*-*-*-*-*

 

Night Changes – One Direction  
  
Louis is helping Niall do his tie just outside the venue and the other boys are watching him closely, their eyes as sharp as lasers.  
  
“What did you do?” Niall finally asks, solemn faced. “Why isn’t Harry here?”  
  
“I kissed Chase.” The boys gasp. “Or, he kissed me. Anyway, there was a kiss and Harry walked in on it.”  
  
“Louis, how could you do that to him?” It’s Liam, looking at him with deep, mournful eyes.  
  
“You’re the one who told me—“  
  
“I told you to give yourself a chance to find out whether this is what you want!” Liam raises his voice. “Not to let him stick his tongue down your throat. And honestly, I thought that if you really talked to Chase, you’d realise Harry is the one. He always has been.”  
  
Louis stares at him, wide-eyed.  
  
“And you didn’t think about giving me a heads up?”  
  
“Clearly,” Nick interjects, stony faced, “he didn’t know you needed one.”  
  
“Niall.” Louis grabs him by the shoulders.  
  
Niall tightens his tie and then leans in and kisses Louis on the cheek.  
  
“Go.” He smiles, warm as the universe who blessed him with the outstanding ability to forgive. “Fix this.”  
  
Louis runs.  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Illusion – One Direction

 

 _Please talk to me. There’s so much I have to apologise for._  
  
Another text from Louis chimes on his phone and Harry swears and kicks Gemma’s living room wall. The recommitment ceremony was supposed to be the perfect chance for him to ogle Louis in a suit and slow dance with him the way he had on their first date. Now, he’s stuck staying at his sister’s place, wearing a too tight suit jacket and feeling like he got duped.  
  
“Oi,” Gemma ambles out of the study. “Would you not kick the wall, please? I’m answering emails.”  
  
“Sorry.” Harry hunches in on himself.  
  
“Oh shit.” Gemma comes to sit down beside him, wearing her best mum face. She’s in bunny pyjamas with hair rollers in but she still manages to make him feel like her baby brother again. “What happened with Louis? Why are you all dressed up with nowhere to go?”  
  
“He picked the other guy.” Harry buries his head in his hands. “I’ve lost him.”  
  
Gemma kicks her feet up on the coffee table.  
  
“Did he say that?”  
  
“Well, no. He said he wants me.”  
  
“Then what the hell are you doing here?” She buffets him over the head.  
  
“Ow.” Harry glares at her. “Look, it’s not that easy. He kissed somebody else. That’s not exactly a good sign, is it?”  
  
She buffets him again.  
  
“OW.” He pushes her sideways.  
  
“Well, given his history with the guy, you can’t blame him for being a little confused. Did he actually kiss the guy back? Did he jump into this guy’s handsome arms and ride off into the sunset with him?”  
  
“Well...no.”  
  
“Okay then, so there’s still hope,” she smiles at him. “Haz, what have you got to lose?”  
  
“My dignity. My heart. Everything.”  
  
“But,” she grips his shoulder. “You stand to lose even more if you don’t fight for the man that you love.”  
  
She may have a point.  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Louis runs the whole way to the Liall where he catches Chase just as he’s checking out.

 

“Hey,” he’s huffing as he bends over his feet, “we need to talk.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
Ready to Run – One Direction

 

Harry pushes through the doors of the bar where Niall had proposed celebratory drinks. He’s red faced and panting, his dignity swept aside in pursuit of the man he knows he’s meant to be with.  
  
He grabs the first person he sees. It turns out to be Liam.  
  
“Liam, where is Lou?” He grins, anticipating their reunion.  
  
“He went to go tell the man he loves that he loves him.” Liam’s face is far too pale for a celebration like this one. “I thought he was coming to see you?”  
  
“No.” Harry’s face collapses. His whole body feels heavy. “No, it’s not me.”  
  
Liam squeezes his shoulder.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Harry.”  
  
“Yeah.” His entire being is crushed. “Me too.”  
  
He ambles outside, walking back in the direction of Gemma’s flat, his heart dragging somewhere around his feet.  
  
*-*-*-*-*

 

Where Do Broken Hearts Go? – One Direction  
  
Louis spots a tall shadow, slumped down, and walking through the London streets at a measured pace. The streetlights cast long shadows on his face but they don’t loom nearly as large as the ones emanating from his soul.  
  
“Harry! Wait up!” Louis is panting again.  
  
In the moment before Harry turns around, Louis knows, without a doubt, that he did the right thing. Because the fear of seeing the hurt in Harry’s expression is greater than the fear ever was of telling Chase he never stood a chance.  
  
*-*-*-*-*

 

18 – One Direction  
  
That’s it. It’s over. Harry lost and the worst part is it doesn’t even matter who he lost to, it’s what he lost that stings. He doesn’t give a shit about some fancy paediatrician who already screwed Louis over once. He cares about Louis, the man he wanted to have kids with and grow old with and make happy for the rest of his life. And now, now it’s over.  
  
He’s walking down the street that runs perpendicular to their flat when his phone starts buzzing incessantly. He looks down and sees it’s Louis but does not answer. He doesn’t want to hear apologies or explanations. Right now, he just wants to go home and drown his sorrows in a bottle of scotch.  
  
“Harry! Wait up!” The sound is tremulous and afraid and Harry knows this voice better than any other. It’s a voice he wants wrapped around him in the final hours of his life, sending him on to the next one.  
  
He turns around. Louis is standing there in a lacy black shirt with a black ribbon necklace. He’s paired it with a blue velvet blazer and wonderfully tight trousers. His hair is swooped over to the left, his face flushed pink and he has never looked more beautiful, nor more afraid. Harry can’t understand what he’s doing here. He can’t understand why Louis’ chased him down.  
  
“I went and saw him.”  
  
“I know,” Harry feels hollow with it. Like he could be this empty forever and never get used to the feeling.  
  
“I went to tell him I can’t be with him.” Louis’ voice wobbles. “Harry, I love you. I’m sorry I had to work this all out in my head but I want to be with you. I can’t imagine my life without you.”  
  
“But I don’t want you to pick me because you think it’s the right thing to do or because the timing was bad for you and him.”  
  
“I’m not,” Louis says quickly. “I would never.”  
  
“Because you could be with him, you know, if it would make you happy.” Harry cradles Louis’ delicate face between his palms. “I mean, fuck, it’d kill me, but if that’s what you want...”  
  
“You’re what I want.” Louis’ eyes are bright and shiny. “Forever. Please Harry. I just want to have you in my life.”  
  
“You have me.” Harry lets out a quiet sob and slams his body into Louis’, opening him up with his tongue. “You’ve always had me.”  
  
Louis’ laugh is wobbly and he rests their sweaty foreheads together, desperately tugging on Harry’s bottom lip and groaning into his mouth.  
  
“I was hoping you might say that.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*

 

Fireproof – One Direction  
  
It’s been two weeks since The Chase Incident and Louis is walking on eggshells, afraid that Harry might suddenly realise Louis doesn’t deserve him.  
  
Harry, for his part, has been strangely distant and constantly preoccupied. He’s always on his phone and when Louis asks him what he’s doing, he gets even more closed off.  
  
They kiss. They have sex. Harry wakes him up with Yorkshire every morning and washes his hair for him every evening. But something is wrong. Something has changed and Louis’ afraid it’s because of Chase.  
  
It’s day fifteen of this weirdness and Louis is even more pissed off than usual because everyone at work is staring at him like they know exactly how badly his life and his relationship are falling apart.  
  
“Would you stop it?” He slams his hand down onto the nurse desk, startled by the innocent looks that suddenly appear on all three of his friend’s faces.  
  
“Stop what?” Niall shoves a huge handful of crisps into his mouth. “We were just wondering why you’re here. You’re not on today.”  
  
“What? Yes I am.”  
  
“No,” Nick spins his computer screen around. It’s got the roster on it, showing the empty space next to his name. “You’re not.”  
  
Louis kneads his forehead.  
  
“But I checked it this morning?”  
  
Greg shrugs.  
  
“Maybe you should go and ask Liam.”  
  
“Yeah...” Louis has just about had it with this day. Harry hadn’t even kissed him goodbye before he left this morning. “I think I will.”  
  
He strides down the hall to Liam’s office and knocks on the ugly green door.  
  
“Come in,” comes the voice from inside.  
  
Louis pushes in with a harassed sigh.  
  
“What the hell is going on? I was rostered on today, I checked this morning, and now suddenly I’m not.”  
  
Liam takes his glasses off and runs his finger under a line on his report. He looks so unbothered by Louis’ confusion and it gets on every one of Louis’ fried nerves.  
  
“What the hell, Liam? Why am I here?”  
  
Liam doesn’t even look up from whatever report he’s writing.  
  
“You’d have to ask chief of staff. I’m not responsible for this one.”  
  
“Liam!”  
  
“Sorry Lou.” He slides his glasses back on and flips to the next page in his report.  
  
Louis lets out a guttural growl.  
  
“You are the worst brother ever.”  
  
Liam’s lips shift into a smirk.  
  
“That’s me.”  
  
Louis slams his way out of that traitor’s office. He makes his way to the chief of staff who tells him to speak to his assistant, who’s been helping with rostering, who then tells him she had help from a nurse on one of the wards. Louis spends the next hour just storming from one idiot to the next, trying to figure out why the supply chain is suddenly so long. It’s a bloody roster. How many people does it get passed off to before someone makes this big a mistake?  
  
“Niall. It was definitely Niall.” The hospital receptionist nods. “He should be able to help you.”  
  
Louis is going to tear that leprechaun limb from limb.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
He rushes over to the elevator and furiously jabs at the button until it beeps. He pushes inside and straight into Zayn who catches him with soft hands.  
  
“Well hello, Lou.”  
  
They’ve recently repaired their fractured relationship, only insomuch as they pretend they never dated in the first place. It happens to work surprisingly well for them, considering how uncomfortably often Zayn flirts with his brother. The worst part is actually that Liam blushes like a teenager and stammers out the most ridiculous responses...  
  
“Has anyone ever told you how much glasses suit you?” Zayn had said the other day, leaning in to fix the crooked set perched atop Liam’s nose.  
  
“Uh n-no.” Liam shot panicked eyes at Louis who just smothered his laughter. They’d already had a long talk about how okay it is that Liam is attracted to Zayn. Louis has well and truly moved on. “Has anyone ever told you, you’re sweet? Because I’d be bitter without you.”  
  
“What?” Zayn had cocked his head, grinning at the embarrassing mess Louis calls his brother.  
  
Louis does give Zayn some credit for never openly pointing out how bad Liam is at flirting. He may not have been the one for Louis but he isn’t a bad person, not by any stretch.  
  
“Um. Nothing.” Liam had looked suitably miserable.  
  
Louis buried his head in his hands and walked away, muttering about the pain of having a big brother even more awkward than he is.  
  
“Hey Z.” Louis says now, surprised when Zayn wraps him up in a tight hug, pressing the button over his head.  
  
“Um, what are you doing?” Louis laughs.  
  
“I’m just so happy for you, Lou.” He buries his face in Louis’ hair. “I’m so happy.”  
  
“O...kay?” Louis trails off. “Are you feeling alright? Did you catch something from playing tonsil hockey with my brother?”  
  
Zayn’s eyes go wide and he stumbles back.  
  
“Lou, I’m so s—“  
  
“No, don’t be sorry.” Louis’ smile is genuine. “You and Liam are way better suited than we ever were. Liam is married to his career. You’re married to unreliability. It works.” Zayn chuckles. “And honestly, I’m just really happy someone is finally looking after Liam. Is it weird? Sure, it’s weird. I don’t like to look directly at it. But am I okay with it? Surprisingly, yeah.”  
  
Zayn pulls him into another tight embrace and then the lift dings open. Louis steps out but Zayn stays in, shifting from side to side.  
  
“Z? Aren’t you getting off?”  
  
Zayn smirks, eyes lit up by something dangerous.  
  
“Nope, I’m going down. I’ll see you soon.”  
  
Louis flutters his fingers in a wave as the doors close between them.  
  
“What the hell is going on today?” He sighs.  
  
He walks up to the nurse station and finds it occupied by three nurses he’s unfamiliar with. Where are the boys? They should be on until late.  
  
“Um, can you tell me where Niall, Greg and Nick are?” Louis asks their stand ins, shifting from foot to foot.  
  
“Here,” a young, ginger haired man says, handing him a note on some familiar cardstock. “They left you this.”  
  
Louis turns it over.  
  
_Louis William Tomlinson,  
  
You are cordially invited to the new ward on level 2. Please join us immediately._  
  
_Love, your team.  
_  
“What the hell is this?” Louis turns it around to show them but all three of them shrug and resume conversation immediately.  
  
“Useless,” Louis mutters and makes his way back to the elevator.  
  
Level two is a new burns unit that’s in development. At the moment, it’s just freshly painted walls housed in empty rooms with dim lighting. It looks like the set of a low budget rom com in which everything is lit by flickering candlelight. What on earth could he be wanted down there for?  
  
He makes it down in record time and is hit by oppressive silence. His shoes click loudly against the linoleum floor and the noise remains unanswered. His heart accelerates in his chest, knowing that scenes like these usually end with one of two things.  
  
The first is murder. The second is what awaits him when he turns the corner into the main foyer.  
  
“Surprise!” A loud cheer rises up from the centre of all the people he loves. They stand in a semi-circle, facing him, their faces lit up with megawatt grins.  
  
“What are you all doing here?” Louis laughs. “Is this why I was sent on a wild goose chase all day?”  
  
“Obviously.” Niall grins and steps forward, embracing Louis tightly. “We have some things for you.”  
  
Louis pulls back with a raised eyebrow. His bewilderment shifts to Niall’s outfit which happens to be a three-piece suit.  
  
“But it’s not my birthday?”  
  
Niall smirks.  
  
“Just humour us.”  
  
“Well...” Louis takes the small parcel in Niall’s hands. “I won’t say no to presents.”  
  
“That’s my boy,” Dan calls out and there are murmurs of laughter and assent throughout the rest of them.  
  
Louis laughs and rolls his eyes. Truthfully, he’s pleasantly overwhelmed. Everyone he loves is here; his friends, his family, even Zayn who’s the only one dressed in anything remotely casual.  
  
Louis tears into the thick black paper. Inside is some Monterey Jack, his favourite cheese.  
  
“Um.”  
  
Niall throws back his head, laughing uproariously.  
  
“Your face,” he slaps his knee. “Just read the card.”  
  
Louis pulls out the cardstock and reads the neat cursive.  
  
_Because I know you love how cheesy I am.  
H .xx_  
  
“Is he for real?” Louis rolls his eyes at the rest of them whose laughter is a stunning chorus.  
  
“You picked him.” Niall slaps him on the shoulder. “This is your doing.”  
  
“Yeah.” Louis smiles down at the paper, gently rubbing his thumb over it. “It is.”  
  
Nick and Greg step forward then, holding a large one.  
  
“Congrats,” they say and kiss both of his cheeks.  
  
Louis raises an eyebrow.  
  
“On?”  
  
They smirk and step back into line. Louis tears open the paper. It’s a set of three bottles. One is red wine, one is scotch and one is vodka. The note reads:  
  
_Because we can get drunk on each other while getting drunk on these._  
  
Louis laughs and places them on the ground next to the cheese. Lottie is next. She walks over to him and wraps her arms around him, squeezing so tight, he struggles to breathe.  
  
“I love you so much,” she whispers, undercurrents of emotion running through her voice. “Harry is so perfect for you.”  
  
Louis’ face softens and he presses her close to him, kissing her hair.  
  
“He is, isn’t he?”  
  
The third package makes Louis laugh out loud the moment he opens it. It’s a container of pumpkin soup.  
  
_I have soup? If um, you don’t mind waiting_ , the note says. Then in brackets, _(this one is for the nights when you stumble upon a soup kitchen and demand to be fed.)_  
  
“He’s so damn cheesy.” Louis buries his head in his hands, groaning. He loves this man so much.  
  
When he takes his hands away, Phoebe and Daisy are standing in front of him, holding a parcel each. Louis takes them and places them on the ground. He opens his arms up. The twins rush to him, throwing their arms around him and pressing in close.  
  
“I missed you two,” he tells them. “You’re growing up way too fast and I can’t deal with it. You look like models.”  
  
They both roll their eyes which are dusted in pink eyeshadow and outlined by perfect winged eyeliner. Their hair has been curled and they’re both dressed in floor length gowns, Phoebe’s is a brilliant shade of red and Daisy’s coral blue.  
  
“Why are you so dressed up? You look gorgeous.”  
  
Phoebe grins.  
  
“You’re not getting it out of us, Lou.”  
  
“Dammit.” Louis snaps his fingers and they both chuckle and fall back into line.  
  
He opens Phoebe’s first. It’s a punnet of strawberries with some chocolate dipping sauce as well as whipped cream in a can.  
  
_Because I want to see your mouth wrapped around one of these and be reminded of how it looks when it’s wrapped around me. (It’s a very dirty mouth.)_  
  
Louis blushes and then shoots his sister a wide-eyed look.  
  
“Please tell me he didn’t let you read this.”  
  
“No?” She raises an eyebrow. “And judging by your face, he made the right call.”  
  
Louis nods in earnest, drawing the same chorus of laughter from his loved ones. He kneels down and opens the second one. He gasps with delight. It’s a battery powered lantern with the words “I love you” lit up in the middle.  
  
_Because you emit a brighter light than I can ever give back to you. You are my illumination,_ _Louis Tomlinson_.  
  
Louis cups his hand over his mouth, burying the sounds of his emotion in it. Then, Fizzy steps forward and Louis loses it all over again. She’s wearing their mother’s necklace and he knows exactly what her package will be.  
  
“I love you so much.” Her eyes are so bright. She cradles his cheeks. “I know you will always be safe and happy, so long as you have Harry.”  
  
“I love you too.” Louis wipes away his tears, brushing them away with a watery smile. “I love you always.”  
  
She smiles and it’s the kind of smile that he will always remember, the kind that he’ll take with him to the grave. He’s never met a soul more pure than hers and he knows he never will.  
  
He gently tears away the wrapping paper and bursts into tears.  
  
_Dear Louis,  
I cannot be with you on this special day and I am devastated that it has to be this way but I love you, darling. I’m so proud of you. If you’re reading this, it’s because you picked the one and they decided to pick you too. You deserve nothing less, my gorgeous boy. If I can’t be there with you, I hope you know I will always be there in spirit. Enjoy this moment but know that the magic of what you have with your soulmate lasts a lifetime.  
Love,  
Your best friend._  
  
Dan steps forward to embrace him, holding him as the sobs wrack his chest.  
  
“She is so proud of you,” he whispers, “as am I.”  
  
“Is Harry—“ Louis’ face rises and falls with the tides of his emotions. “Is he trying to kill me?”  
  
Relieved laughter bursts from every corner of the room, dispelling any previous tension, and Louis has never been more grateful for each and every one of his loved ones. Dan grabs his arm.  
  
“I know your mum loved you the most and that now that honour rests with Harry…but you’ll always be my boy.”  
  
They’ve worked out their issues over the course of the last year and their family has never been stronger, despite the absence of their matriarch.  
  
Louis nods, breath shaky, and takes the package. He peels the paper away and finds a picnic rug, some crisps and a bottle of champagne.  
  
_I want to celebrate every moment of this with you,_ it reads. _Come find me at Hyde Park when you’re ready._ _  
_  
Attached is a map of Hyde Park with a specific spot marked with a H.  
  
Doris and Ernest are next. They give him about a ten thousand kisses before handing him a rose each.  
  
“Happy Louis and Harry day, Achoo.”

 

The throw their arms around his legs. Louis laughs and bends down to hug them properly.  
  
“Thanks guys.” He squishes them to his chest. “Can Achoo have one more kiss?”  
  
They both kiss his cheek and run back to their places, giggling to each other. Doris looks so sweet with her ginger curls trickling down her cheeks and her bright blue eyes. She’s dressed in a frilly black top and denim shorts while Ernest is in matching denim shorts and a fancy white top. His mop of a hairstyle is jelled back into a miniature quiff.  
  
Liam and Zayn are last. They step forward, holding a huge basket. Inside is a photo album.  
  
“Good luck,” Zayn tells him and kisses him on his cheek.  
  
Liam puts the basket at his feet and grabs him by the arms.  
  
“I never thought it’d be this emotional seeing my little brother find someone.” He says. “But then I never thought you’d find someone like Harry.”  
  
“Me either,” Louis shakes his head, wiping away still more tears. “He’s amazing.”  
  
“But so are you.” Liam cups his cheek. “So are you. Never forget that.”  
  
They embrace for a long moment and then Zayn grabs Liam’s hand and tugs him away.  
  
Louis picks up the album and starts flipping through. Each photo is a photo of the two of them kissing or laughing or rubbing their noses together, cheeks blooming pink. There are photos of Louis nestled in Harry’s lap, looking up at him like he’s the centre of the universe and photos of Harry winding his arms around Louis’ waist and digging his teeth into his shoulder from behind. The last photo is from the day before Jay passed away. The two of them are crowded around the in-home hospital bed, kissing both of Jay’s cheeks. She’s smiling with eyes squinted tight, like despite everything, it was the most content she’d ever been. It’s a beautiful photo.  
  
“Put the stuff in the basket, Lou.” Niall looks at his watch. “You and Harry are due back in two hours for drinks.”  
  
“Okay.” Louis kneels and does exactly that. He’s feeling feverish. “Okay.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*

 

Once in A Lifetime – One Direction

  
It takes him a bit to find the spot on the map. It’s hidden away in the back of the park with a thick collection of trees creating the field in which Harry stands. The sun has just dipped behind them, leaving a burnt orange glow around the tops of the branches. The sky is stained with pink and the wind rustles the leaves every few moments, creating a sound which reminds Louis of the inside of a seashell. It reminds him of the day he spent with Harry in the ocean, three months ago, splashing around and talking about this exact moment.  
  
Harry is wearing a three-piece suit too. It’s navy with a high-necked white shirt underneath. He’s got on silver boots and multiple black jewel necklaces. He looks stunning and Louis feels only slightly worthy of him after changing into a black, low cut shirt with transparent sleeves. It ties off around his middle, exposing his midriff and he’s paired it with long, tight trousers that slide up around his hips.  
  
“You’re a vision,” Harry says, biting his lip.  
  
Louis hauls the basket onto the ground and strides up to Harry.  
  
“Says you.” He runs his hands up Harry’s expensive suit. “You are fine dining in a suit.”  
  
“And I’ll happily let you dine on me later,” he winks, sea foam flashing bright emerald. “But first...”  
  
He drops to one knee and pulls a black velvet box from the front pocket of his jacket. With shaking hands, he pops it open, gazing up at Louis with bright, watery eyes. Inside is Jay’s sapphire encrusted engagement ring. The size has been altered and there’s an inscription that cites the day they first met...but it’s her ring. It’s her legacy.  
  
“Harry.” Louis’ voice is a plea, a thank you and a love letter all at once. His eyes are misted with memories of a treasured past, never forgotten and a precious future, soon realised.  
  
Harry’s lips slowly curve up to expose his devastating smile but his eyes are wet and red around the edges.  
  
“I’m sorry I had to send you on a wild goose chase today. I’m sorry I made you think for the last two weeks that I was having doubts about us. I just wanted it to be a surprise.”  
  
“Mission accomplished.” Louis hiccups into the back of his hand. “I’m surprised.”  
  
Harry takes his trembling hand and holds it tight.  
  
“Louis, you went and picked me when the love of your life offered you the whole world and that, more than anything, proved to me that you’re mine and you always will be.”  
  
“ _You_ are the love of my life, Harry.” Louis tells him, voice wet with it. “I want to be yours.”  
  
Harry smiles, exuding fondness, then opens his mouth.  
  
“Every day with you has been an adventure I never saw coming. Every time you smile at me across a room or squeeze my arm when you walk past to get something, every time you slide into the shower and offer to wash my curls or leave me cute little notes on the bathroom mirror, every time you drunkenly tell me you want my body or stretch yourself out for me before I even walk in the door, every time you laugh with your eyes nearly closed or look up at the sky like you’re having a conversation with your mum in the middle of a parking lot...every single time, I think: what I wouldn’t give to spend the rest of my life making this man happy.”  
  
“I want to make you happy, too.” Louis sobs. “I want to be with you, always.”  
  
Harry grins.  
  
“I want you to know I made sure I had the approval of everyone in your life, including your mum. Louis William Tomlinson, will you marry me?”  
  
“I will.” Louis laughs and then lets out one more ugly sob.  
  
Harry grins, eyes dewy, and slides the ring onto his finger. It’s a perfect fit. It looks like it never belonged anywhere else but here, on his hand.  
  
“Can I kiss you now?” Louis asks.  
  
Harry squeezes his hands.  
  
“Please.”  
  
Louis tugs him up from the ground and throws his arms around him, rocking up into him.  
  
“I love you,” he sighs into the softness of Harry’s plush mouth, their hands bruising each other with searing touches. “I love you so much.”  
  
“I love you too,” Harry holds Louis to him, rocking him from side to side. “I wanted to do this picnic here because your mum said when you were eight, you told her you wanted to propose in Hyde Park. Well, baby, I couldn’t give you that so I gave you this instead.”  
  
“This is perfect.” Louis can’t stop smiling. “I just want to drink champagne and eat strawberries with you. But please don’t ever, ever give my sister a card that talks about my dirty mouth.”  
  
Harry chuckles and grabs the rug from the basket, laying it out beneath them.  
  
“But it is very dirty,” he drops down onto the rug, pulling Louis onto his chest, “and I want to kiss you clean every day for the rest of my life.”  
  
“You’re so sappy.” Louis pokes him in the chest. “You’re lucky I just agreed to be with you forever.”  
  
“Yeah.” Harry pulls the bottle of champagne from the basket and two stemmed glasses. His smile is bright, his hair is wild and he can’t stop smiling dopily at Louis. He’s the only one Louis wants to be with, the only one who’s ever understood him completely. “I am.”  
  
Thank god for that blasted food truck.  
  
*-*-*-*-*

 

No Control – One Direction  
  
That night, Harry feeds him strawberry juice off his fingers while fucking him into the mattress. There’s chocolate sauce smeared sound Louis’ belly button and whipped cream on his inner thighs and Louis still remembers to say;  
  
“Now who’s the one with the dirty mouth?”  
  
Harry buries his laughter in Louis’ neck. He groans when Louis clenches around him then says:  
  
“I’m so glad you’re going to be my sarcastic, awkward, drunken disaster of a husband and not anyone else.”  
  
Louis moans back and presses his tongue into Harry’s mouth. He clenches hard, pulsing around Harry until he spills into him with an animalistic growl.  
  
“Sorry,” Louis says with a smirk. “Being married to you really turns me on.”  
  
“Baby,” Harry huffs into his neck. “Being married to you is the only thing I’ve thought about since you first stumbled up to my food truck.”  
  
Despite his embarrassment that day, Louis doesn’t even think it’s a lie. The two of them make love into the early hours of the morning, wrapped around each other like an infinity symbol. Louis knows now that sometimes a drunken mistake is the best bad decision you’ll ever make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come tell me what you thought :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Favourite parts? Least favourite parts? Love it or hate it, tell me why. I love love love love comments because you're all so lovely.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr. I'm lovehoperomance. x
> 
>  
> 
> If you’d like to support me and my creative endeavours, you can find me at ko-fi.com/hayleymakamrsstylinson or there is a link on my tumblr (lovehoperomance.) I would never want anyone to feel obliged and I love that ao3 is free for all but I’m also a struggling uni student and I’ve had a very difficult year with an admission to a mental health facility so I thought I might as well. But I’m happy enough if I’ve brought a smile to your face. Love you all x


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